Bits of Me
by UltraAmbiguousID
Summary: Rated Mature for violent themes, blood, implied sexual situations, implied character death. In the postwar era, the students of Hogwarts come together to aid Harry, but is he the one that needs their help? To EWE or not to EWE.
1. Chapter 1

1.

Spinner's End

Luna Lovegood apparated outside the front entrance to Spinner's End. She carried a small rucksack on her back, one hand bracing the strap against her shoulder while her other hand was tucked delicately in the crook of Neville Longbottom's arm. Luna gave a slow measured look to the surroundings before she exchanged a languid smile with Neville. They walked to the front door where Neville used his wand to lower the wards. He held the door open for Luna to precede him.

The interior of the home was much as Professor Snape left it four months prior, though brighter with more candles, cared for and today, smelling delectably of cinnamon and pumpkin. Luna's smile broadened at the aromas. She handed her rucksack to Neville and walked through the archway and into the kitchen.

"Hello," Luna called as she spied Ginny Weasley busily making pies in the kitchen.

Ginny's hair swung widely as she turned a warm smile on Luna.

"Hi, Luna! I was getting worried."

"Neville wanted to bring some fresh herbs for the dinner, so we went back to his grandmother's and he looked in the garden and he didn't see some rocks. We came anyway," Luna trailed off.

Ginny gave a puzzled look at the blonde before saying, "Of course you would come. Ron's upstairs changing. Harry went back to Grimmauld's for a book. Hermione owled she'll be late. "

Ginny clapped flour from her hands and slid the pies into the oven. She surveyed the small, yet tidy kitchen. Satisfied she had done all she could for the time being, she hung her apron on a hook and sat at the table. She examined the cool blonde across the laminate from her. Since the war, Luna was a little taller, a lot curvier and somehow, softer. Ginny always wanted a sister and she felt Luna and herself becoming close. Not best friends, but good friends.

Ginny nibbled a biscuit she took from a jar and enjoyed the quiet. She could hear Neville walking about upstairs, _probably unpacking_. She liked it like this. _Before the war_, she would have been a little disconcerted at the silence, but now she enjoyed these quiet moments. Being the youngest of seven, Ginny was overlooked in the midst of her siblings' exuberant personalities. Falling for Mister Harry Potter included being caught up in the whirlwind of the golden trio. _They couldn't be called a whirlwind now. Not really. Not any of them. _

"Hi, Ginny." Neville took a peek into the oven before fixing himself a tea and sitting next to Luna. He scooted his chair closer so he could drape a long arm around Luna's shoulders. Ginny scrutinized the lanky boy, _lanky no more_. Neville had filled out, his shoulders broadening and his voice deepening. Gone was the nervous, bumbling boy. He was no longer self conscious, but acquired an easy grace which could only come from caring deeply about someone else. _From being in love_. Luna leaned back and into Neville's shoulder, the smile on her face never wavering. _They look good together_, Ginny thought and then her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?," Neville looked at Ginny openly.

"D-do I look different?"

"Different than what?" Neville asked kindly. Luna simply looked at Ginny.

"Different than before?" _B__efore the war _went unspoken. That is how she compared everything now. It was either _before_ or _after_.

Honest Neville bit his lip and tried not to look at Luna for help. _ Do I really want to know?_

Neville spoke slowly, "You look like your mum, now." Ginny blinked back a hot tear. _Mum, I look like mum? _

"You look like you care," Luna said in her dreamy voice. She plucked a biscuit from the jar, snapped it in two and shared it with her love.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Honor

Ron Weasley and Harry Potter joined Neville, Luna and herself in the kitchen as Ginny prepared the dinner. Ron regaled his friends with anecdotes from working with his brother George at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry talked about his Auror training. Neville and Luna chatted about their herbology experiments. Hermione Granger arrived apologetically two hours later to find them waiting. They never considered eating dinner without her.

Ginny was a fabulous cook and everyone groaned as they eased their sated bodies up and began clearing the table. Since Ginny cooked, she was expected to relax afterwards while the rest washed and dried and stacked.

Ginny grabbed two wine bottles and took them into the living room. After metering liquid into glasses awaiting on a console, she arranged the drinks on tables around the room. She plopped herself onto the floor in front of the couch and roamed her eyes around the room as she kicked off her shoes.

She didn't mind weekends at Spinner's End, not at all when surrounded by friends and with Harry by her side. She didn't mind Grimmauld Place either. Harry told her she could redecorate and he said there were all kinds of alterations they could make for, well, for when they have kids. But she wanted a fresh start. Somewhere without memories. _A place in the country, perhaps?_ If her and Harry do marry, she wanted a home without sadness.

Taking a sip of wine, she listened to her friends chatting amiably as they worked. Leaning her head back against the green velvet, she let her eyes close as she curled her toes into the thick rug.

They used to meet weekends at Harry's home at 12 Grimmauld Place.

The first weeks after the defeat of Voldemort were a vague disorder of funerals and weeping and skirmishes with the remaining defiant Death Eaters. Kingsley Shacklebolt had gauged Harry's fervor and shuttled him into the Auror training program to everyone's nodded approval.

Ginny couldn't remember if Harry asked her to move in with him or if she ingratiated herself into his life unawares, but they found their living arrangement mutually agreeable. Harry, nor Ginny, officially proposed, but they occasionally discussed a future together.

Despairing friends and family eventually returned to their own concerns. A pattern of regularity developed with a return to normalcy and Ginny noted something. Harry seemingly disappeared. It was very disconcerting. He'd say he was going for a lay down and when Ginny would check, he wasn't there. Harry would say he wanted a bath, but _for two hours?_ He'd return to the kitchen not looking anywhere near cleaner she noticed. She asked him if he'd gone out_._ He didn't answer.

It was Ron who found him. Ron said he went to Spinner's End to see if Snape had books on Quidditch and instead he found Harry sitting in Snape's living room. 

_Just sitting there_, Ron said, _like it was normal or something_.

Ron looked over the shelves, selected a thickly orange tome and instead of leaving, he sat in a chair and read. Ron didn't leave until Harry did and that was nearly three hours later.

_Ron, Ronald Weasley reading and for three hours? Wished I'd seen it,_ thought his sister.

The next time Harry disappeared, Ron suggested Luna try Spinner's End. Harry was there. And then Neville went. And Harry was there. Soon, they were taking turns spending time with their friend at Snape's home. Harry never asked why they came.

The first time Harry decided to stay the night was after Hermione sat with him very late on a Friday. Harry stood up after hours of silence in the gold brocade and said, "I'm going to sleep now."

Hermione was startled at Harry's loud voice at the somber hour. She was more so when Harry went up the narrow stairs instead of out the front door to the apparation point. She heard him enter and shut the door to one of the rooms. She waited a breathless moment before going up the stairs herself. She listened at the first door until she heard the unmistakable whispery sound of a body turning over under bed covers. She sent an owl that she and Harry would be sleeping at Spinner's End.

Hermione found a guest bedroom and sat up all night. She imagined a very dead Snape emerging from the very black dark to chastise her for being a very ungrateful Gryffindor.

The friends talked it out and the following weekend they met at Spinner's End on Friday evening. Harry arrived nonplussed. They all met there every weekend since.

Luna, Neville or Hermione arrived first on Friday evening. They aired the house while lighting candles and unpacking food which Ron or Harry purchased. Ginny cooked and all but Ginny cleaned the kitchen. On Saturday, they scrubbed the house clean. In the evening and throughout Sunday they would talk or read or play board games. They put everything in its place before departing early Monday morning to their respective lives.

It was an implicit rule none of them would use magic while at Spinner's End.

Ron scoffed the first time he saw Harry carrying the bed linens to the laundry room. Soon Ron began hauling firewood from a muggle shop. One day he groused about 'women's work' and then began wearing holes in his knees as he applied a fine polish to the wood floors.

Ginny made her own bread and scrubbed the pots she found under the sink until they gleamed. Hermione removed the books from the library. She wiped each book, applied a light wax to the leather bindings, and dusted the shelves thoroughly before shelving. Neville and Luna cleaned the basement and the attic before tackling the windows.

Ginny's friends could have used magic to clean up and she could have used magic to cook, but there was something about the ritual of manual labor they implicitly recognized. It was an unspoken _Honor?_ _ Privilege?_ _Respect?_ they gave to Snape.

Snape who protected them. Snape who saved their lives. Snape who went unrecognized in his role as a double agent. Snape who went unloved and uncared for. Snape who now received recognition by their devoted attention to his modest home. They became caretakers of Snape's possessions much as Harry became the caretaker of Snape's memories.

It wasn't only for Snape. The ritualized cleaning seemed to be cathartic for their pent up frustrations and anger at the losses from the war.

Luna made a list. She wrote on a parchment every person who was killed in the war and tacked it to the back of the front door. None of them questioned Luna and they soon realized how important that parchment was. It was the last thing they saw when they left this place. It was a reminder they were caretakers of all those who waited beyond that door. It was up to them to make the changes necessary for a better world.

Ginny felt her wine glass slipping and opened her eyes to see Harry holding onto the stem. She grinned sheepishly at being caught drowsing as he kissed her delicately. She held onto her glass as he seated himself behind her on the sofa. His hand with his glass of wine rested near her shoulder as he idly stroked his stubbled cheek with his other hand. Although no words were exchanged, they each were lost in surprisingly similar thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Respect

A laughing Ron, Neville, Luna and Hermione joined them in the living room. They seated themselves, Neville and Luna taking the matching brocades, hands clasped across the gulf. Ron stretched out onto the floor, elbow propping his head. Hermione sat cross legged by his back, her fingers combing Ron's long mane.

Ginny crinkled her nose and tried again to understand what any girl would see in her brother Ron. True, Ron was quite muscular from Quidditch games and his copper hair brushed his shoulders like Prince Valiant. He was more polite when he spoke and he learned to think twice before opening his big yap. Ron was still Ron though. Brusque, crude and to Ginny, insipid.

As much as Ginny delighted in her growing friendship with Luna, she wanted more than anything to garner Hermione Granger's respect. Ginny looked to Hermione with awe. Hermione the intelligent one. Hermione the star of Hogwarts. Hermione the third part of the 'golden trio.' Hermione who decided to go back to Hogwarts and sit her 7th year despite suffering the effects of the Cruciatus curse. Brave and courageous Hermione the Gryffindor.

Everyone held Hermione in high esteem and Ginny hoped Hermione could explain why, of all the girls he could have, Harry Potter chose _her_ to fall in love with. Ginny was no one special. She had no particular magic. Yes, she could cook and she could probably make babies, but Hermione was a hero.

Hermione's hair cascaded down her back, her thin fingers raking Ron's hair while her other hand played with the pocket on her jeans. Ginny noted the dark circles and pale complexion of the girl. _After the war_, Hermione became quieter, less bossy. _Passive,_ Ginny thought as she watched the apparent ease of Hermione's ministrations with concern.

They all knew, particularly Harry, that Hermione was never at ease. Immediately after the battle, she was taken to St. Mungo's because of the Cruciatus curse coursing through her body. No one was allowed to see the unconscious girl as the healers worked to keep her alive. Three days later, Harry and the Grangers were allowed to visit Hermione and learn of her fate. She would live, but she would continue to have full body tremors which would vary in intensity for the rest of her life. The healers hoped the affects would abate with time, but the only other people to survive a prolonged attack of an Unforgivable were the Longbottoms. And they were classified as insane.

"Teddy is doing well with Andromeda," Harry said startling Ginny out of her reverie.

Harry was changed, too. He was _coarser?_ _Harder? _ Ginny couldn't think of the apt word. His voice was deeper and commanding. His boyishness completely gone in the hard lines etching into his face from worry. What he was worrying about Ginny hadn't determined. He was in training to become an Auror, spending time between the Ministry and Hogwarts where he assisted with the rebuilding of the school. He gave himself a lot of work and yes, there were still Death Eaters to be brought to justice, but nothing to worry about in Ginny's mind. Even if Dark Wizards or Witches arose, their experience with Voldemort had prepared them for a new fight.

"What would Teddy like for Christmas?" Luna asked.

Harry flinched spilling his wine down the front of Ginny's dress.

"Harry!"

"Oh, sorry, love! I-I-I'll get a towel."

Harry tried to dash into the kitchen, but Hermione beat him to it. She returned with a white cloth and offered it to Ginny. Ginny took the linen and pressed it to her dress. It was obvious to everyone that the purple wine would never come out of the buff dress without magic. They waited a breathless moment for the inevitable as she continued applying clean areas of the cloth to the silk fabric.

"I am sorry, Gin. You could, you know, if you wanted to. I wouldn't mind." Harry stared at the ruined material and bit his lip.

Ginny stopped worrying the material and debated how to defuse the situation.

"Oh, it's just a dress. I was always wanting to alter the front anyhow. Maybe a little... lower?" She looked through her bangs coyly at Harry.

Harry blushed and reseated himself on the sofa, drawing Ginny onto his lap.

It wasn't too much longer that the party began heading up to bed. Walking in pairs, they went to their accustomed rooms, bidding each other a kind good night.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

A bedroom

Ron lay curled against Hermione, her back pressed to his chest, the thin cotton sheet between their bodies.

During the first weekend they all stayed at Spinner's End, Hermione boldly asked Ron if they could share a bed.

Ron outdid himself in his personal hygiene that evening. He was propped in bed under the sheets with his 'lucky' pj bottoms on and trying to withhold a grin.

Hermione shocked him by laying on top of the sheet to sleep, drawing the coverlet over them both.

Of course Ron wouldn't press himself on her, but Hermione didn't want any misunderstanding. Ron was affronted she would mistrust him, but he admitted he had little control over his nether regions. Since then, he forced himself to wake before Hermione so he could relieve himself of his ardor before she noticed and they both became embarrassed.

Ron told himself he didn't actually need sex. He wanted it surely, but he could expend all of his energies at Quidditch or cleaning Snape's home.

_Sleeping next to Hermione wasn't so different than sleeping in a crowded bed with several of his brothers_, he told himself. _Hermione smelled better than his brothers_.

Ron snuffled his nose in her hair, the scent of lavender fresh and soothing.

_Merlin how I love her!_

Sometimes Ron thought his heart would burst just by looking at Hermione. He wondered how he missed her loveliness during those early years at Hogwarts.

Hermione apologized for not being more... intimate with Ron. Ron was flabbergasted. She waited for him while he dallied with other girls. He would wait months, years even for her.

He listened to her breathing, waiting for her breaths to slow and deepen as real sleep overtook her. Hermione sometimes pretended to be asleep and then would slip downstairs to read a book. Ron wasn't offended, but he wished she would talk to him about her symptoms. Instead, Hermione became quiet. Sometimes the tremors were terribly nasty, jolting him awake with their ferocity. He clutched her to him as she cried through the pain. Only when the convulsions abated or if she passed out from exhaustion did she get any relief. Lately, Hermione was able to fall asleep more easily.

_Perhaps the tremors are fading_, Ron thought.

He watched as Hermione's body shook slightly from another tremor. Ron stroked her arm, soothing her with his touch and smoothing the purple fabric of her sleep shirt.

The color reminded him of the wine which reminded him of the dress which reminded him of Harry spilling the wine and something... something gnawed at Ron. Something about Harry. Ron tried to puzzle it out. He knew something was wrong with Harry, _something was wrong with all of them. The war was still fresh and they still hurt. _Harry was preoccupied and wasn't willing to talk about it.

Immediately after Hermione's release from St. Mungo's, Harry began disappearing for a couple hours several days a week. Ron found out because he was making his Monday delivery to Hogwarts. Kingsley told him Harry would be at Hogwarts, but Ron couldn't find him. Then there were times he looked for Harry at the Ministry, but Harry wasn't there either.

He did find Harry at Spinner's End one Saturday. He pretended to be looking for a book and when he decided Harry wasn't going to leave, he sat down with the book to wait out his friend. After three hours Harry stood up, walked out the front door and disapparated to Grimmauld. Ron's jaw dropped.

He asked Luna and Neville to follow Harry over the following weekends. When they reported the same, Ron and the rest gathered together. They decided mutually to aid Harry with whatever was wrong. They would go to Spinner's End and prepare dinner. They wouldn't press Harry by asking questions, but they wanted their presence to reassure him of their reliability should, or when, he needed them.

Everything worked well enough on the weekends, but Harry still disappeared throughout the week and Ron could not figure out where to. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Harry outright, but he couldn't. Harry looked too drawn and Ron didn't want to upset his best friend. If he didn't figure it out soon, he would ask his friends what they thought. Ron lazily stroked Hermione's arm with his thumb as he replayed the night's events looking for a clue.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Guilt

Hermione held her breath and listened to Ron's breathing. His hot palm was still on her arm, but he had not moved his thumb for awhile. She waited. Half an hour later, Ron began snoring. She slowly edged out from under his hand. She drew on her robe and went downstairs. In the living room she chose a book at random and seated herself to read by firelight. She tucked her legs up under her as she tried to stave off sleeping so she wouldn't dream.

She felt completely isolated. She never slept alone anymore if she could prevent it. Her first night back at her parents home she asked like a little girl if she could sleep in their bedroom. Her dad dragged an old military cot from the attic and she fell asleep after a hearty cry. Each time she stayed with her parents, she unspokenly slept on the cot.

After her release from St. Mungo's, she decided to go back to school. Everyone wanted her to relax and recover, at least as well as someone could suffering from Cruciatus symptoms.

Hermione didn't want time to think. If she thought she would remember. If she remembered then she felt guilty.

Back at Hogwarts she convinced Cornelia to share a bed. Though hesitant at first, after Hermione's first night of clonic seizures from the Cruciatus, Cornelia swore she would never leave Hermione alone.

When she was at Spinner's End, she cuddled with Ron with a sheet in between their bodies. She knew it was unfair to Ron, but she told him she wasn't ready.

He surprised her by not pushing the issue of their relationship.

Hermione could withstand the tremors. The pain went away... eventually.

It was the nightmares she agonized over. The nightmares were always similar, yet always different.

She would be somewhere bland doing something innocuous when Snape would arrive. Sometimes dream Snape would only stare at her. His fathomless eyes mesmerizing her like a snake charmer. Sometimes he verbally abused her with accusations. Why didn't she save him? Why didn't she use an antivenom? Didn't she bring a bezoar? Why did she let him bleed to death like she didn't care if he lived or died? How could the brightest witch of her age be so stupid?

Unknown to any of her friends, Hermione purchased muggle sleeping pills. She didn't take them every night, but she was taking them more often. She kept two in a pocket of whatever she was wearing. She habitually ran her hands over the pocket to reassure herself they were still there... in case.

She read about the medication before she decided to buy them. They were highly addictive and they prevented dreaming. While evading the nightmares would seem beneficial, Hermione read that dreams were necessary to human survival. Scientists did not know why, but if people went without dreaming for too long, they became psychotic.

Hermione dreaded going to sleep. She deliberated with herself if she deserved rest. She hadn't saved Snape. She never even considered saving his life. She was indeed a bad person.

Her hand stole down to caress the pocket of her pj bottoms, her cheeks wet with tears.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

The following Wednesday found Ron unpacking boxes in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes storeroom. New inventory for the holiday season was arriving and Ron was responsible for verifying the shipments, taking stock and filling orders. He was opening a box of Blue Brew when George came into the stockroom.

"Got the stuff away?"

"Gimme a chance, there's tons o' stuff 'ere," Ron blew out his breath. With the loss of George's twin Fred, George became as maniacal about working as, well, as Hermione was about studying. It seemed to be doing George alright though as business was wide and the cashbox deep.

"No dawdling there, Ronnie. You've got deliveries to 'smeade and 'nother to 'warts."

"Crikes, it's not Monday, George!"

"No, it's not, Ronald, but they put in another order – rush. So do it!" George tried to glare at Ron before closing the door to go back to customers.

"Crikes, he's as bad as mum, Percival and Snape together."

Ron continued stowing merchandise, although a bit quicker now.

'_Warts, eh?_

He'd give a quick rundown to see just where ol' Harry was supposed to be today.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Hogwarts

After Ron dropped five cases of Wonder Witch products off in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, he ran upstairs to meet up with Hermione and Neville in the 4th floor library. Hermione was taking 7th year classes with hopes of sitting NEWTS.

Neville helped Professor Sprout part-time and he was studying to become a professor of herbology. They were sitting at a wide table with piles of books as high as their heads.

"There you are," Ron gasped as he flung himself into a chair.

"What's wrong?" Hermione's eyes kept reading.

"Those damnable stairs moved me every which way. I swear, it's like they were trying to muddle me on purpose."

"Well, you're here now," said Hermione snapping her book closed. "Shall we go find Harry?"

"Shacklebolt told me Harry has Auror training on Mondays and Thursday. I've double-checked Spinner's End. He ain't there."

"And I talked to Ginny at Grimmauld. Harry told her he was going to Hogwarts today." Hermione waved her wand and their books went back onto the shelves.

"And McGonagall told me Harry helps with the school on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. The volunteers are currently working on the North Tower. If Harry is here, he should be there," Neville said smartly.

They looked at one another for a moment and nodded in agreement. They rose as one and went to the North Tower.

They questioned Professor Flitwick who was overseeing the reappointment of the tower's stonework. They also quizzed the volunteers. Harry was there for awhile, but they admitted he could not be found at the present time.

At a loss, the three friends strolled along the grounds.

"You don't suppose Harry is on a mission?" Neville's fists were balled in his pockets. He didn't want to think of Harry out risking his life while he was squibbling over mandrake roots.

"Can't be. Ginny 'd say, wouldn't she?"

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't know what to think. She assumed that if Harry were doing something dangerous, he would tell them. _After all they went through. __If not to tell them... and they were his friends. His best friends. And if he didn't tell Ginny... what was he doing?_

"Who else would know?" Ron squinted his eyes about the grounds. "Hagrid? Nah, he'dda spilled it already."

"Maybe we should ask Harry?"

Hermione smiled widely at Neville. Sometimes the simplest ideas were best.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Friday

They planned how they would approach Harry, deciding to wait until Saturday night after they had a good sleep.

On Friday, significant glances were exchanged during dinner. Ginny bit the inside of her cheek as the tension increased. The silence was palpable. Harry dug into the mashed potatoes for a second serving when Luna spoke up.

"Harry, are you looking for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"

Potatoes slid off the spoon and splatted on the table as Harry's mouth hung open. The others rolled their eyes and laughed. Ginny cleaned the spuds with a napkin.

"N-no, Luna. Why do you say that?" Harry recovered from his initial shock and dug the spoon in for a fresh heap of starch.

"Where are you when you're not where you are?"

Another plop of potatoes onto the table. Harry looked at Luna whose gray eyes challenged his green. The others were eerily silent. Each was thoroughly absorbed with their beans and ham.

"W-w-what?"

"Remember when I visited you at the Ministry?"

"No, no, I don't remember that Luna."

"Because you weren't there." Luna took a sip of her milk and continued eating her dinner. To her, she had made her point.

Harry looked around the table and realized his friends were conspicuously ignoring him. Ron was bent so low over his plate that Harry only saw a copper curtain. Ginny was drinking her tea and staring at a speck on the ceiling. Hermione apparently dropped something on the floor and was having trouble picking it up. Harry looked at Neville who quickly dropped his eyes and flushed.

"Neville? What's going on?"

Neville's eyes remained on his plate, but he managed to ask. "Uh, Harry. W-we, we were wondering... I was wondering where you were on Wednesday?"

"I was at Hogwarts helping rebuild. You know that. You all know that."

"I didn't see you."

"You should a asked Professor Flitwick."

"I did." Neville shot a glance up and met Harry's eyes. Harry was staring at him, hard.

"Then you know I was helping rebuild the tower. It's almost done. We move onto the dungeons then. They need gone over. Completely waterlogged from the lake, you know. We'll set it right. Gonna be a bugger drying out all those books and parchments in storage."

They looked agape at Harry as his mouth ran.

"Harry," Neville licked his lips, "you weren't there."

"'Course I was. You probably missed me going in for a rest."

Ron's eyes finally met Harry's. "No, Harry. Neville's right. I was there, too."

"Easy enough. I was there. I took a rest is all."

"But you weren't there. I looked for you, too, Harry. Professor Flitwick said you came, but then no one could find you," Hermione's concern was evident.

Harry didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this to them.

"None of your business, right!" Harry scooped another load of potatoes onto his plate and dug in.

They were all staring at him now, affronted at the unfounded malice in his voice.

Ron's jaw dropped. "Harry!"

"You've been spying on me, eh? You have no right to interfere in what I do. It's my resp-my concern, not yours, not nobody else's! Now let's drop it!"


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Ginny

Ginny brushed her hair as she sat at the dressing table in her and Harry's bedroom at Grimmauld. She was watching him prepare for bed and she debated with herself for the umpteenth time that day.

In the two weeks since the confrontation at Spinner's End, her and the others mutually stopped trying to find Harry during the weekdays. They still met weekends at Snape's home, but Harry continued to vanish, more so.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and prepared herself for the inevitable. She hitched in her breath and tried to speak nonchalantly.

"I-I'm going to my parents tomorrow."

"Eh, what's that, love?"

"I said... I'm going to my parents tomorrow." Ginny turned to face the mirror, blocking her view of Harry. She viciously brushed her hair creating a maelstrom of static.

"Oh, give 'em my love. We'll be having the salmon for dinner?"

"Uh, no. Well, I don't know what you'll be having for dinner."

"Eh? Why's that?"

Ginny tried to make her voice sound cold, "I won't be returning for dinner."

"Aww, Ginny. I should a thought. Course we could eat dinner with your folks. I haven't seen 'em in so long. Hey, I'll leave the Ministry early, eh?"

"No, Harry. I-I don't want you to come."

"Oh?"

"No. And, Harry... I-I'll be taking my things." There, she'd said it. Ginny tamed her hair, catching it in a ribbon.

Harry stopped fiddling with his buttons and looked at Ginny carefully.

"What?"

"I said... I'm leaving. I won't return." Ginny used her fingertips to apply a cream to her face, massaging too roughly.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice so quiet she barely discerned the word.

In a flash Harry grabbed her arm and spun her up and out of her chair.

"What is this?! What are you doing?"

Ginny glared at Harry, "I told you. I'm leaving you."

Harry roared, "Who is he?! I'll kill him!!"

Ginny tried to wrench her wrist out of his grip. "There is no one else, but there's no point in us being together, is there?!"

Harry held onto her wrist with one hand and grabbed her shoulder with the other. He pulled her closer. "Why's that then?"

"Because YOU obviously are in love with someone else!" Ginny's anger matched his as she released her unspoken fear.

Harry nearly smiled, "Ginny, Ginny. There's no one else. I love you! You, you silly daft girl!"

"Then why do you keep leaving? There has to be someone else. Shacklebolt's covering for you. McGonagall won't tell me where you go. You won't even tell Ron or Hermione. So what else _could_ it be?"

"Ginny, you have to believe me that there is no other girl, no _woman_. I only love you."

"If you loved me as you claim you do, you'd tell me where you go!" Ginny waited a beat, "How can you say you want to marry me and not tell me? What if you get injured or killed?! What would happen to me? How would I know?"

"Ginny, I-I won't get hurt," Harry spoke softly, his eyes thoughtful. "There's no possible way for me to get hurt."

"I don't know that!" She pulled out of Harry's grip and backed away from him. "And I certainly can't marry you if you're going to keep secrets from me!!" Ginny's hot tears cut streaks in her face cream.

"Ginny, you don't mean that?" Harry was shocked. He never considered his responsibility would affect Ginny. _It was only a few hours a week..._

"Don't I? I've always loved you, Harry. I think I always will. I waited while you flirted with Cho, but I cannot marry you if I doubt you. I won't be hurt any more by your evasiveness and lies. I'd rather go it alone!"

Having vented her anger and nearing exhaustion, Ginny slumped into the chair and buried her face in her hands weeping. "I don't want to look at you anymore, Harry Potter."

He was shocked at first by Ginny's accusations. He admitted he _did_ flirt with Cho when he was younger. He slowly realized his evasiveness could look like he was meeting another woman.

Ginny wouldn't believe him. She would laugh in his face if she knew. And did he want her to know? Did he want any of them to know?

Harry fought the various possibilities of the situation over until he decided he must tell her. Once he'd fallen for the girl, his heart was hers. Watching her cry was making his chest ache.

It was all his fault, everything was his fault and he should have told her sooner.

Harry began slowly and carefully so she would not mistake his words, "Uh, Ginny. First, there is no other woman, but you. I love you." He paused to see how she was reacting. "Shacklebolt and McGonagall don't know where I go. Hagrid doesn't know either."

Ginny's sniffling continued.

Harry couldn't tell if she was listening. "Where I go has nothing to do with my Auror training and it is not dangerous." Harry waited again. "Uh, the only people that do know where I go is the Malfoys." That got her attention.

Ginny frowned as she looked at him. At least she was looking at him.

"I visit the Malfoy mansion," he paused, expecting her to ask, and she did.

"You visit the Malfoys? You could have told me that. I don't harbor ill will against them." Ginny's voice was raspy from crying.

"Uh, no. I don't visit the Malfoys exactly." Why was this so hard? "You see, Mr. Malfoy cordoned off part of the manor. Someone lives there and the Malfoys let me visit him."

Ginny stared at Harry trying to discern his meaning. What friend of Harry's would possibly be staying with the Malfoys of all people?

Ginny's eyes grew large. "Harry, It's Dumbledore, isn't it?! He's alive!"

Harry licked his lips. This was it. "Uh, no, Ginny. It's not Dumbledore. It's Snape, Ginny."

Ginny heard wrong. Her crying must have clogged-up her eustachian tube or something. Did he say Snape? And then it dawned on her. She smiled resignedly, stood and moved to the closet. She used the engorgio charm to enlarge her battered suitcase.

Harry's eyes got wide. "Ginny! What are you doing?"

When Ginny set the trunk on the bed and kept packing, Harry stomped over to her and grabbed her. "Ginny!" He shook her until her neck hurt.

"I never thought you would be cruel to me, Harry Potter," she stated sadly.

Harry pondered her reaction. "I'm not lying to you, Ginny. It's Snape. He's living at Malfoy mansion and I visit him several times a week."

Ginny gave him a weak smile, but her eyes were cold with regret. She drew herself as far away from him as she could in his grasp.

Harry would not lose this woman. He would have to show her. "I'll take you there. You'll see Snape and then you'll know." Harry didn't want to do it, but he saw no other way. He would not let Ginny walk out of his life.

She continued looking at him as if he'd lost his mind.

Harry realized his nails were digging into her skin. He relaxed and drew his wand. Ginny's eyes widened in fear which caused Harry's heart to break a little more.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

The man in the chair

Harry apparated them inside a grandiose room at Malfoy Manor. They were disheveled, tired and distraught from their argument.

The parlor was in cool blues, spare of furniture, yet architecturally gaudy.

Ginny looked wildly about as Harry turned them both, leading Ginny to a side door. They entered a corridor and hadn't gone too far when Narcissa came running with her wand pointed at them.

She was shocked at their visage, but her patrician manners aided her in covering her discomfiture.

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm so sorry. I didn't have time to owl you first." Harry looked at Ginny who was gaping at Narcissa. "It was an emergency, you see."

Narcissa nodded calmly and waved her wand at them. Ginny was straightened and the cream from her face gone. Harry was no longer wearing pj's, but trousers and a t-shirt.

"That'll do I suppose," Narcissa said with great authority. "Mr. Malfoy and Draco are out on business. If you wish anything before you leave, I'll be in the music room, Mr. Potter." Narcissa inclined her head delicately to Ginny, "Miss Weasley." She turned in a sweep of satins and glided back the way she came.

Harry swallowed, "If you think you're scared, we certainly startled her."

Ginny started breathing again. Harry pulled Ginny along the corridor and then another until they came to a small room. Within, a man was seated on a stool at a table. The man nodded at Harry and continued thumbing a magazine. Harry set his wand on the table and indicated to Ginny to do the same. She reluctantly set her wand down and both sticks vanished. Before she could ask, he guided her across the room to another door.

Harry looked pointedly at Ginny. "Don't be too shocked, Ginny. And... and don't touch him, okay?" He tapped at the door frame before he opened It. The door was surprisingly thick and Harry held it open as he let go of Ginny's arm. She surveyed the room before letting out a gasp.

It was a large en suite in off-white. All of the surfaces were of a quilted material, the ceiling, walls, furniture, everything was padded. She could see a set of doors to her left. Immediately in front of her were several thick cushions on the floor. To her right were several padded chairs and a padded table. The wall on her right must have been enchanted as it depicted a break in a forest with a view of a lake and mountain beyond. Butterflies rushed up to flowers in the foreground and clouds scudded in front of the sun. There was nothing else in the room except the man in the chair.

The man sat in a padded chair facing the enchanted wall. Inky long, lanky hair enfolded his head.

Ginny edged into the room, circling around to see his face.

He was dressed in white cotton pajamas, his bare feet on the padded floor. The placket of his shirt was splayed open. Ginny could see taut, pale skin heavy with pink scar tissue. He sat relaxed in the chair, his arms stretched out on the armrests and he appeared to be either asleep or staring at his lap.

Ginny came closer. _This isn't_. _This can't be_. She leaned over to see beneath the thick hair.

"Professor?" She reached out to move a lock of his hair. If only she could see his face.

"Ginny!" Harry grabbed her arm and shook his head. "Don't."

Ginny looked at Harry and back to Snape. Snape hadn't moved or even flinched at Harry's voice. She watched his shirt rise and fall. At least he was breathing.

Harry still held onto her hand, "Let's go, okay?" Ginny nodded and padded along with Harry, her eyes never leaving the man in the chair. Before Harry shut the door Ginny whispered, "Thank you, Professor."


	11. Chapter 11

11.

Narcissa

Harry led Ginny into the music room where Mrs. Malfoy was listening to Bizzby and sipping a sherry. She offered them drinks and hors d'oeuvres as she elegantly waved them towards richly upholstered seats. Mrs. Malfoy replied to Ginny's queries and what Mrs. Malfoy didn't know, Harry submitted. Ginny was surprised at Mrs. Malfoy's graciousness towards them, well, herself.

An hour later and Ginny learned the answers to nearly all of her questions.

"As I said, Miss Weasley, " Narcissa purred, "my husband revived Severus. Mr. Malfoy can elaborate on how he achieved that feat as it is beyond my capabilities of comprehension. I am merely relieved he was able to do so." Narcissa paused royally before continuing, "Severus was an endeared friend of my family before he enrolled at Hogwarts and I respect him as a brother."

Ginny digested this tidbit before asking, "Do you think he would mind if I sat with him?"

"Ginny!"

"What, Harry? There's no reason for you to spend so much time here. You want to be an Auror, don't you? Shacklebolt may not be pressing, but you have to finish your training."

"Yeah, but Snape is my responsibility now, don't you see? Dumbledore told me to trust Snape and I didn't. If I'd listened to what he was trying to teach me, even if I'd asked Snape instead of accusing him, maybe he wouldn't be like he is now."

"Well, isn't your life my responsibility?" Before Harry could interrupt her, "You don't have to do this alone, Harry. Do you know what I do with myself while you flit about? I cook and clean and owl my friends. Please, Harry, I want to do this. I want to help you and I want to help him."

Harry scrutinized Ginny's face. _Sensible Ginny_. Of course she was right, she was right about everything. Harry couldn't keep losing time at his training to attend to Snape. Shacklebolt was lenient with Harry's lackadaisical approach to his training, but Harry's behavior was unfair to the Minister. After all, Shacklebolt pushed for his admittance to the arduous program despite his being under the age requirement.

Harry blushed as he remembered Mrs. Malfoy.

Narcissa watched the interplay with calm reserve, but felt it was time to interject. "I will speak with my husband regarding adjusting the wards in that section of the house. As long as Miss Weasley respects my family's privacy, I am certain Lucius will agree. As for Severus minding... " Mrs. Malfoy pointedly did not finish her sentence.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Morning

Ginny tackled the snarls in her hair generated from a very restless sleep. When she first woke, she clutched at Harry and asked if she had dreamt it all. Harry did not even open his mouth, she saw the truth of it in his eyes. And here she was not ten minutes later and already outlining a schedule in her mind. She turned abruptly to Harry who was rooting for a shoe under their bed.

"Harry?"

"M'yeah?"

"Harry!"

"What, Ginny?"

"We have to tell them."

Harry looked at her quickly, but he didn't look surprised. He shrugged, "I know. I just, I just don't know how it will help, ya know?"

Ginny turned back to the mirror and evaluated the effectiveness of her ministrations. She replayed the night's events in her head. She imagined what she would want her friends to do for her if she were in Professor Snape's condition. Not that any of them were _friends_ with Professor Snape.

"I think he would be glad. Somewhere deep inside he would have to know, wouldn't he?"

"I dunno, Gin. I've been going nearly five months and he's no different. And Mr. Malfoy, well, he's known Snape longest."

"I was thinking... if I were in Professor Snape's place... I would want you there."

Harry snugged into his lost shoe and walked over to Ginny. He placed his hands on her shoulders and made eye contact with her in the reflection.

"But, Gin, you would never try to hurt me."


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Saturday

After the friends scrubbed Spinner's End and ate a fabulous lunch of cold turkey, they sat around the table eating crumble cake. Ginny kicked Harry under the table.

"Oi, Ginny!"

She raised her eyebrows at Harry in significance. Harry rubbed his shin and glanced around at his friends. Everyone was in a good mood with a fresh dusting of snow and holidays approaching.

"I-I've kinda got something to tell ya." Harry cleared his throat and half-heartedly poked his fork around his plate. He waited.

"Well? Go on, mate." Ron winked at Neville. They bet Harry would be announcing his and Ginny's wedding soon.

"Uh, this is hard for me to say... and I, I don't want you all to be mad, okay?"

Ron narrowed his eyes as the others straightened in their chairs. They were all paying close attention.

"It seems I made a decision right after the battle and I, it was a wrong choice, ya see." No, they didn't. Eight pairs of eyes tried to bore into Harry's skull. One pair of eyes sympathized with his plight.

"Er, ProfessorSnapeislivingatMalfoyManor." Harry flushed as he wished he were a fork.

Neville squinched his face trying to decipher what Harry said, "What's that, Harry?"

Harry didn't raise his eyes from his plate. "Professor Snape... is... living... at Malfoy Manor."

There was a moment of silence as they eyed each other. Ron began grinning and he was about to reply with impudence when Hermione whispered, "Harry, that's a sick thought and disrespectful."

"I... it's true," Harry looked at each of them in turn. "That's where I go weekdays. I sit with him."

Ron still wore the grin plastered on his face. "Sure, mate. It's okay, really."

Hermione stated with her jaw clenched in anger, "Harry, Professor Snape died in the Shrieking Shack! I saw him."

Neville's eyes were large with disbelief. "And Harry, there's no way he could have survived Nagini."

They were all looking at Harry as if he were mad.

Luna in her special way inquired, "Is Professor Snape wanting his place back?"

Ron snorted then said sarcastically, "Hey, why don't you ask him if I can borrow his togs?"

"Ronald!" Hermione wasn't the only one aghast at his rudeness.

"Right, mate," Ron's faded with a new thought. "Maybe you and Ginny should take a holiday away, ya know? Go somewhere peaceful."

Ginny's cheeks were pinking from Ron's assumption.

Harry was exasperated. "I'm not crazy, Ron."

"No, maybe not, but you obviously need to rest. Maybe you're not as recovered from the war as you think. You might be a bit addled."

"Ronald Weasley! I'm not going to sit here while you accuse Harry of being balmy." Ginny stood up fast, knocking her chair over. "Professor Snape _is_ alive. He _is_ living at Malfoy Manor and... I saw him." Ginny bolted up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door.

There was a moment of silence as each wondered if Harry and Ginny were under a hex.

Luna leaned across the table to whisper at Harry, "Is Professor Snape wanting his shampoo back?"


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Owls

After several minutes of arguing and with Ginny's return to the kitchen, the friends resolutely refused to belief either Harry or Ginny. It was too impossible.

Ginny stared at Harry before saying, "Maybe they could see him?"

"Ginny, the Malfoys aren't exactly pleased with my intruding in their home."

"Mrs. Malfoy already said I could come. And Mr. Malfoy changed the wards to accommodate me, so he must not mind either. Why not them, too? It would only be this one time."

Harry looked around the table. Luna was her implacable self, but Ron, Hermione and Neville eyed him the way he used to eye Draco.

"I suppose I could ask." Harry left the table.

Ginny began cleaning the remnants of the dessert, completely forgetting it was not her chore. They each tried to think of something to say, but nothing was apropos to the possibility Harry and Ginny were suffering from post-war shock.

After nearly an hour of silence, Harry came back into the kitchen. He held onto the back of a kitchen chair as he spoke, "The Malfoys are expecting us."

They were startled as horses to a snake.

"We don't want to keep them waiting."

They each stood up quickly and looked a moment at Harry before proceeding outside.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

Lucius

Ginny noted they apparated into the same parlor as Harry brought her to the day before. Neville and Luna clung together as Hermione and Ron did. Mr. Malfoy was seated with his hands on his knees. He wore a surprisingly pleasant smile on his face and there was no hardness to his eyes at all.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor. I am pleased to see all are well." Lucius' eyes roved over the group. He inclined his head in acknowledgement to each of them as he made eye contact. He stepped to Harry and asked, "Would you and your friends like to join my family for dinner?"

Harry was dumbfounded. Lucius was always polite to him during his visits, but this was downright cordial.

"Uh, no, sir. I apologize again for this sudden intrusion. I did not realize you were sitting to dinner."

"Oh, no. No apologies here. We are all beyond begging anyone for forgiveness, aren't we?" Lucius seemed to be taunting Harry except for the sad tone of his voice.

Bringing himself out of a melancholy thought, Lucius' eyes brightened and he extended his arm towards and beyond the door. "This way, please."

As the group followed Mr. Malfoy, he asked Harry if he should explain the circumstances to his friends.

"If you please, sir."

"Very well." Lucius took a breath and in an eerily familiar cadence of their former teacher, he related Snape's misfortune.

"Your dear Professor Snape was indeed struck by Nagini's venom. Expecting to die from Nagini's attack, he willingly gave Harry his memories of Harry's dear mother Lily Evans. However, Severus would not have died from the snake venom as he ingested an antivenom some time before."

"When exactly, sir?" Luna inquired.

"I do not know. My son Draco and I have since discussed the possibilities. Draco thinks Headmaster Dumbledore hexed Severus into unknowingly eating bezoars routinely for just such a circumstance. I would not put that particular portent beyond Dumbledore. Knowing Severus as I do, I believe he purposely ingested an antivenom beforehand. Or, Severus could have inured himself over the years, building up a sort of tolerance to various poisons."

Lucius led them into the small room where the guard was waiting. Lucius drew his wand dramatically and laid it on the table. Harry did the same and the rest followed after a moment of hesitation.

Lucius continued, "When my darling wife Narcissa revealed she bonded with Severus in an Unbreakable Vow, I was stunned. I do not know if you are aware, but Severus and I have been close friends for many years. Severus is like a younger brother to me. I would do anything for him." Lucius looked them over again.

They were enthralled with the man's story and with his easy demeanor with them.

"Severus not only killed Dumbledore to prevent my son from bloodying his hands, but he attested his decision to the Dark Lord himself. Severus was not going to die from the venom, but he was bleeding to death from Nagini's puncture wounds. As Severus was dying, the Unbreakable Vow bonds shone brilliantly. Narcissa could see Severus in her mind, laying on the floor bleeding. I apparated to the Shrieking Shack the moment you left his side. I sealed his wounds and apparated him here, where he would be unseen and safe. Any questions?"

"Uh, sir, you better tell them the rest, so they know."

Lucius pursed his lips in distate before speaking, "I was able to heal Professor Snape's body, but his mind may never heal."

They gaped at the absurdity.

"Severus expected to die. He fulfilled his bargain with Dumbledore to protect Harry until Harry was strong enough to take on Lord Voldemort himself. He also fulfilled his bargain with my wife. Severus, therefore, not only awaited death, he wanted it." Lucius paused allowing his words to be absorbed. "Once Severus was conscious and understood his circumstances, he deceived me with his cavalier attitude. While I was remiss, he injured himself."

"H-How, sir," squeaked Neville nervously. He didn't want to know, but he needed to know.

"He performed sectumsempra on himself."

They gasped. Ginny covered her mouth and began crying. Luna nodded with empathy. She had felt the same when her own dear mother died. Neville and Ron exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"I cordoned off this section of the mansion and altered Severus' rooms to be... safe. His wand was, of course, removed. There are various wards to prevent him from hurting himself further. Also, there are wards to prevent him disapparating. Severus can perform rudimentary nonverbal spells. There is a guard at all times and no wands are permitted within for obvious reasons. There are wards to prevent Severus from using hexes against anyone, just in case."

"When did you know, Harry?" Ron asked his friend.

"It was a week or so later. When Snape was declared dead, Spinner's End was to go for sale. Mr. Malfoy and I both bid for it. We kinda got into an argument and..."

"And I inadvertently let Severus' condition slip," Lucius said with slight amusement. Lucius looked them over and sighed. It was time.

He nodded to the guard who vanished the collection of wands. Lucius turned to the door and tapped on the frame before opening the door.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

Crocodile Tears

They were shocked. It was to be expected. Here was the man they long thought dead, implausibly alive.

Lucius excused himself and closed the door. Harry and Ginny hung back as they watched the reactions of their friends. Neville, Ron, Luna and Hermione circled around until they were standing between the enchanted window and Snape. He was seated in a chair, arms stretched along the armrests. He appeared to be staring at a point on the carpet a few feet in front of his knees. His thick hair hid his eyes.

Luna's tears streamed down her face although she was smiling. Neville stifled a sob and bundled Luna into his arms to hide his shame. Ron opened and shut his mouth several times debating if he could speak.

Hermione continued to circle around to Snape's left. She was overwhelmed. Here was the man of her nightmares. The man who accused her nightly of not saving him from death.

_Alive, Snape was alive! _She thought.

Harry looked at Ginny as she squeezed his hand and he didn't notice Hermione step very close to Snape's chair. She placed her left hand over Snape's. Then bent and drew back his hair with her right hand, kissing him lightly on his temple.

"Thank you, Professor," she tried to say, but it became a rustle of breath against Snape's skin.

"Hermione!" Harry grabbed Hermione's elbow and ushered them all out of the room before Snape could hurt her.

None of them noticed Snape's tears dampening his shirt.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

Luna

Luna stopped at a clothing store for men in Diagon Alley. She was supposed to be shopping for Neville, but... Luna fingered cashmere scarves on a table. She lost herself in thought for a few moments.

It was three weeks since Harry revealed Professor Snape was living at Malfoy Manor. Since then, the friends had created a schedule whereby they each spent time sitting with the professor. At first the schedule was limited to weekdays. but Hermione insisted they visit on weekends, too, because Professor Snape wouldn't know what day it was.

Between the six of them and the three Malfoys, the professor had at least one visitor every day for a couple hours – whether he wanted it or not. And no one really knew if he did because he was unresponsive.

Ron talked to the professor about Quidditch, the products he sold at George's shop and his family.

Neville discussed plants, of course, the many happenings at Hogwarts and his granny.

Ginny spoke about cooking, Rita Skeeter's column which she followed dilligently, and her family.

_Poor Professor Snape getting a double portion of Weasley!, Ron snorted._

Harry mentioned his Auror training, Ministry concerns and world news.

Hermione shrugged and said she couldn't really remember what she said.

Luna found herself discussing the magical creatures her dad tracked. She asked Professor Snape's opinion on various topics. Luna didn't receive a reply, but she couldn't help asking. It was only polite, after all.

Luna passed on the scarves and wandered through the shop with her usual serenity. Christmas was approaching quickly. She knew if she thought hard enough, she could find a gift to make Professor Snape, if not happy, at least comfortable.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

Hermione

Hermione Granger laid her wand on the table in front of the guard. She didn't know his name because he didn't wear a badge and he never spoke. She tried making eye contact with him once, but his eyes were lifeless voids. She had felt herself falling into an abyss until her wand rolled off the table and hit the floor, snapping her out of the fugue.

She pointedly never made eye contact with the _man?_ again.

Her wand disappeared and she quickly walked to the white door. She rapped her knuckles several times against the wood frame before tugging the heavy door open and entering Professor Snape's en suite.

She sighed each time she saw him. He was always in the same seat, positioned the same way as if he never moved in between her visits.

The enchanted vista was of a blood-red lake scudded with ice. Impossible cliffs of mercury threatened to topple themselves into the water and _what was that?_ Some sort of _thing_ skimmed very fast below the water's surface.

Hermione dragged her attention from the scenery to focus on the man in the chair.

Hermione sat herself in one of the seats by the table. She always sat in the same place; far enough away to allow him privacy, while being close enough so he would know someone was near.

She sat in the extraordinarily comfortable chair and simply watched him. Snape's hair was very long, brushing past his shoulders in a way that was reminiscent of Ron's. She could see his back and right side. The profile of his nose pushed against his ebony hair. He never looked up and never so much as flexed a muscle while she sat and watched. He was evidently breathing, based on the movement of his shirt front, but his gentle respirations were not audible.

Although she wanted to fall at Professor Snape's feet and beg his forgiveness, she restrained herself.

After Hermione's initial gaff at touching Snape, Harry explained to all of them about the man's phobia. Snape was deprived of physical contact as a child because his parents were neglectful. He began withdrawing from physical contact from everyone. Lily Evans' rejection reinforced the introversion. Harry wasn't certain, but he guessed Snape's dislike of physical contact was probably full blown before he ever received the Dark Mark.

Ron insightfully responded to the information, "Made it easier for him, didn't it? Being a Death Eater and all?"

They all nodded in assent.

Neville asked Harry if if was Mr. Malfoy who told him about Snape's phobia.

"No, Mr. Malfoy thought I already knew. Draco warned me when he saw me go to hug Professor Snape. Draco's earliest memory is Snape visiting his parents when he was about crawling. Draco clutched Snape's fingers and Snape broke his arm."

"Oh, Merlin," Ron gasped.

They slowly eyed Hermione who came near to being hurt.

Hermione was blanching at the thought of Snape hurting an infant.

"It's a wonder his parents let Draco study at Hogwarts," Neville said.

"Well, that was Mrs. Malfoy who wanted Draco near. I guess the Malfoys' respect for Snape as a professor and as a friend swayed their decision."

A chime brought Hermione out of her thoughts. She noted the enchanted wall was now a starfield. She must remember to ask Mr. Malfoy how it worked. She looked back at Snape and wondered what to get him for Christmas.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

Saturn's day

Christmas morning came and went with no change in Snape's condition.

Each of them purchased gifts for Snape after questioning Mr. Malfoy on the appropriateness of several items.

Snape received woolly socks from Miss Lovegood. Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley both brought him books on potions. Mr. Potter purchased Snape several pairs of fine quality pajamas – without buttons. Miss Weasley brought him expensive lotion in a nonbreakable tube.

And Miss Granger? Miss Granger brought him nothing.

She acted as if it was any other day, retaining her silence and her cloying stare. Her odd behavior in comparison to her friends made him frown. Not that he wanted anything from the girl, but he _was_ surprised. He shunted the thought away and cleared his mind.

A week passed uneventfully and as today was Saturday, Miss Granger would be arriving. Snape knew it was Saturday because Miss Granger and only Miss Granger came on Saturdays.

Snape was shocked that he was waiting for the girl to arrive with… _apprehension?_ _anticipation? _

The door opened and shut. He heard the swish of her movements and the subtle pad of her feet across the thick flooring. He heard her sit down and the sound of her breathing. He could smell lavender and Snape remembered Hermione's touch when she first saw him...

Snape could practically smell their anxiety when his former students came into his room. The Longbottom boy pulled Miss Lovegood away after she began crying.

Snape was aware of the Weasley boy and the Granger girl standing in front of him. He first suspected Miss Granger was going to touch him when she continued moving around his chair.

_It would be something the soppy girl would do_.

He stiffened himself in preparation. His years of practiced control afforded him an impervious rigidity against unwanted intimacy.

Miss Granger stepped next to him, placing her warm palm over his hand. He was fairly insusceptible when she moved his hair and kissed him.

He tried to analyze her attentions with objectivity, but Miss Granger's thighs were pressing against his hand on the armrest. Her lips were warm, the smell of lavender intoxicating. But it was the movement of her lips against his skin and her breath on his temple which unhinged his soul.

_When was I ever touched like that?_

And here she was returning weekly like a rabbit to poisoned cabbage.

_Why did she come?_ He didn't understand.

The others Snape could understand. They mewlingly vented their thanks to him. Cried how they wronged him and then elaborated the doings in their pathetic lives as if he cared.

But Miss Granger? She only sat there staring at his back as if he were some unknown bug. He debated confronting her, but his pride knew no bounds. If he could withstand the Dark Lord's scrutiny, he would withstand Miss Granger's.

It was of no consequence anyway. Snape was biding his time, waiting for one of them, any of them to slip up.

After Lucius removed his wand, Snape tried nonverbally to extinguish his life with no effect. Snape deduced he would need a wand or possibly access to another room to carry out the unforgivable.

Snape would make no mistake next time. Instead of re-attempting sectumsempra, he would Avada Kedavara himself into blessed oblivion.

Snape became aware of a whimpering sound. It reminded him of something... something he was all too familiar with.

In less time than it takes for a thought to form, Snape disapparated from his chair and apparated next to Miss Granger's prone body on the floor. He was making a second pass of a healing spell when Lucius and the damnable guard burst into the room.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

Snape

Snape winced at the increased cacophony in the room as the Weasley boy arrived.

Snape tried to shut out the sounds, so many sounds after months of quiet.

When Lucius and the guard arrived, Lucius quickly perceived Snape's healing ministrations of the Granger girl. Lucius forestalled the guard's actions until Snape nodded his head in completion.

After a long and mute exchange with Lucius, Snape returned to his customary seat, folded his arms and glowered. Since then, Lucius, Draco, Mr. Potter, Narcissa and now Mr. Weasley squabbled about Snape's incredible recovery.

Mr. Weasley was filled-in on Snape's use of a healing spell on Miss Granger. He came over to Snape's chair. Snape began counting to himself. He guessed the Weasley boy would grab his hand by the count of seven.

It was five, but Mr. Weasley didn't shake Snape's hand, he merely nodded and went back to stand by Miss Granger. Snape was dumbfounded. Mr. Weasley was speechless.

Miss Granger was assisted into a chair and Narcissa retained the girl's hand in her own tight clasp. Narcissa's eyes were swimmy with tears as she beamed at Snape.

Lucius soon quelled the voices and ushered everyone out.

Snape didn't look, but he had the impression Miss Granger did not want to leave. Snape felt a bit pleased at that and he began to smile until he berated himself for the self-indulgence.

"Feeling pretty good, are we?" Lucius was watching him carefully.

Snape did not reply and tried to void any expression from his features.

"I wish I saw it. You moved so quickly the disapparation ward turned on and off before I or the guard could pinpoint the source. The guard thought it was an error. Good thing Miss Granger's time was up or I wouldn't have seen _that _trick either." Lucius waited. And waited.

Snape mulled various answers before asking the obvious, "Miss Granger suffers from Cruciatus?"

Lucius' smile was very broad, "Not anymore."


	21. Chapter 21

21.

Miss Granger

Hermione didn't remember falling from her chair. When she came to, Mrs. Malfoy was clasping her hand to her breast and looking at her like a mother would.

Harry and Draco were talking fast to Ron. Mr. Malfoy suggested they leave the room to allow Miss Granger to recover. Mrs. Malfoy and Ron helped her to her feet and before she went out the door, she swore she saw Professor Snape smiling.

In the music room they were offered refreshments by Mrs. Malfoy.

Ron asked, "How do you feel?"

Hermione concentrated hard on her body, "I don't feel any tremors. Not any. I am very tired, though."

Mr. Malfoy joined them after a few moments.

Hermione asked, "What specifically happened? I was sitting in my chair and then Mrs. Malfoy was holding my hand."

"Your seizure must have thrown you to the floor. Severus has personal experience with the Cruciatus effects." He paused and Harry nodded knowingly. "When Severus realized you were suffering a convulsion from the Unforgivable Curse, he disapparated from his chair and apparated next to where you were laying."

Harry blurted, "I thought there was an alarm for that?"

"There is. I and the guard are tuned to the disapparation ward alarm. It causes a unique sensation in the receivers. It must be distinctive to ascertain which ward has been breached. But because Severus moved so fast, the ward alarm shut back off deeming the movement an error. The sensation the ward triggered was barely a flicker to me. Too quick for me to pinpoint."

Harry and Ron looked at each other with wonder. Draco smirked.

"I was coming for Miss Granger as the period was nearly over. I felt an alarm and questioned the guard whether he felt it also. We thought it best to use prudence. We entered expecting Severus to be unconscious if he tried to circumvent any of the defenses. Instead, Miss Granger was on the floor in an apparent state of distress with Severus leaning over her. I recognized he was performing a healing spell."

"How do you know he wasn't trying to hurt her?" asked Ron petulantly.

"First, because the en suite is warded against hexes. Second, Severus was singing."

"You're joking,"

"I assure you not, Mr. Weasley. Certain healing spells use singing to enhance their efficacy."

"That's true, Ron," said Harry. He blushed and said, "I remember after I, uh, cast a hex on Draco... uh, Snape healed him. He held the tip of his wand very close to Draco's wounds, passing the wand over the injuries. All the time he was singing a spell softly."

Hermione thought of the professor passing his hands up and down her body very closely. She pinked and looked to the floor.

Draco looked pale. He knew Snape saved his life, but he had never thought to ask the details of how.

Harry was thoughtful and said, "But Professor Snape didn't have a wand, sir."

"No, Professor Snape did not have a wand. Wands direct and focus the power of the spell." Lucius waited to see if Harry understood. "Severus performed magic of extraordinary power to overcome the Unforgivable without a wand."


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Draco

The week passed in relative understanding between Snape's former students and himself. They adhered to their visiting schedule as he was essentially still relegated to a 'suicide watch.'

No longer able to hide behind his pretense, they succeeded in eliciting monosyllabic replies from the professor. Ron particularly went to great lengths at telling the most bawdy story in his repertoire. Ron left gratified at seeing the potions master stifling a smirk.

Draco came on his usual Thursday and spent most of the period playing with the hem of his tunic. He was in a state of nothingness since the war.

His parents weren't fully accepted as reformed followers of the Dark Lord. Unable to bear the derisive remarks against his family, or himself, he lazed his days drinking and hiding from his father's sharp tongue and his mother's cloying concern. His father threatened him several times, but never struck him with his hand. Draco didn't fear his father, but he also didn't respect him. He only respected one person, Professor Snape.

He vividly recalled the time his childish hand grabbed hold of the tall man's fingers. It was followed by excruciating pain as his arm was crushed by those same fingers.

Snape healed Draco, it took a few hours, but his arm was fully restored.

He should have feared Snape, but he couldn't. He admired him and wanted to follow in the man's wide path. Why did he excel at potions? It wasn't from Snape coddling him. Did Snape realize the reason he joined the Death Eaters was to impress _him_?

Snape was everything his father wasn't and Draco aspired to be. Unlike his father who ingratiated himself to Voldemort, Snape never vied for the Dark Lord's favor. Yet Snape had been Voldemort's favorite. And Dumbledore's.

Not for the first time, Draco wondered if Snape was more powerful than the Dark Lord. Snape never flaunted his abilities the way some wizards did, but when he did perform magic,_ it was... impressive_.

Look what he done to Hermione. Snape cured her of Cruciatus. Not even the healers of St. Mungo's could do that. And yet, Snape never bothered to heal himself.

Draco remembered his father bringing an unconscious Snape home from meetings with Voldemort. Lucius deposited the man in a room, not too dissimilar from this one, and applied magic to diminish the convulsions. It never helped. Snape would have to wait out the tremors, tossing then hugging himself in distress.

Snape saved his life when Harry cast the sectumsempra curse on him at Hogwarts. Snape took the Unbreakable Vow to prevent him from killing Dumbledore. Snape talked Voldemort out of killing him by saying he was compelled to kill Dumbledore before Draco could.

Snape fooled Voldemort and he was now fooling everyone. He was listed as dead, but here he sat. He pretended to be catatonic, but he had been aware of every action which occurred since he regained consciousness months ago.

Snape had fooled his father, too. Draco angered as he remembered seeing Snape's bloodied body after he spelled the cutting curse on himself. He thought Snape was dead... again. Draco could not understand why a man of such power would choose suicide.

Draco looked up to see Snape staring at him. Draco licked his lips and thought a million questions, discarding them as childish or selfish. He wanted more than anything, to garner Snape's respect.

It was a very, very long moment until Snape stated coldly, "Shouldn't you be in school?"


	23. Chapter 23

23.

Ginny

The friends rearranged their visiting schedule to accommodate Draco's return to school.

_Draco now came on Saturdays while Miss Weasley took his Thursdays and Miss Granger now had Sun-... bollocks! _

Snape didn't care what days any of them came. He'd rather they didn't come at all. Still... he did not like the thought of waiting another day for Miss Granger.

He noted Miss Weasley's arrival.

Miss Weasley always brought home-made food with her, usually a dessert or a sandwich. Nothing necessitating cutlery.

Today was a brioche which she set on a linen napkin on the table. The smell of buttery goodness made Snape salivate.

Early in his confinement, he resisted eating. Then Lucius devised a spell whereby a quantity of food was deposited directly into Snape's stomach. The sudden feeling of hard, undigested lumps made him more nauseous than Filch on a broom.

Lucius was adamant. If Snape wouldn't eat, Lucius would harbor no guilt forcing calories into Snape's system. Lucius arched an eyebrow and told Snape he didn't have to put the food into his stomach... if Snape caught his meaning.

Oh, Snape understood perfectly. From then on, Snape made a show of eating whatever Lucius brought to him, no matter how unappealing in flavor.

And then young Miss Weasley brought him a tomato and cucumber on fresh bread. Very fresh. Snape could smell the wet earth and the slender vines and hot yeast. He waited til Miss Weasley left before temptation overcame his discipline. It was rapture.

Since then, Miss Weasley always brought something. Snape did not eat in front of her and he did not inform her of his indulgence. He assumed Lucius discussed Snape's approval of her cooking because the food kept coming.

_No wonder Mr. Potter was developing a pudge_.

Ginny eyed Snape. She watched him trying not to look at the bun. Sensible and clever Ginny. She leaned forward and with her fingertips slid the brioche closer to Snape. She readjusted in her seat and waited. Professor Snape's eyes widened surely? Maybe she should begin?

Ginny cleared her throat and pointedly attended to her hands in her lap. She inclined her head so her hair shielded her view. She didn't want to embarrass the man.

"Uh, Professor?" No response. "Harry and I expect to marry, you know?" Ginny felt rather than saw movement.

"Well, Harry asked when we should have the service. I told him much as I'd like to marry, I didn't think I could. Well, because. Because I think it is proper that you're there. That you come to the ceremony. I told Harry I wouldn't marry him unless you came. You've done so much for him, for us. And I know you don't like him and I have no right to ask, but it means something to me. Mr. Malfoy said we could have the service here, so you'd be... protected." She winced at that.

"It could be whenever you like and I wouldn't ask too many people. Only the ones you've seen so far and someone to perform the ceremony. And my parents, of course. And my sibs." Ginny was flushed from speaking so quickly, but she wanted it out of her system. She worried for weeks about asking Snape.

She looked up.

The brioche was gone. Snape was looking everywhere but at the bare napkin on the table.

"Well, sir?" Ginny twisted her hands with anticipation.

Snape considered the many reasons why Miss Weasley's request was preposterous. He didn't simply _dislike_ Mr. Potter, Snape _loathed_ the boy and everything he represented.

Snape opened his mouth to rebuke the girl. He wasn't certain who was more shocked at what he said, Miss Weasley or himself.

"Will there be cake?"


	24. Chapter 24

24.

Hermione

Hermione made a list. She included all the times Professor Snape tried to prevent a death yet failed, like Harry's parents. She also included those she knew Snape did save, like Draco and Harry. To be completely thorough, she added names of people Snape helped, herself for example and Professor Lupin. The list was quite long. She chewed her thumb. She wasn't certain where she was going with this information, but she hoped it would jog her somehow. Hermione sighed and put the parchment away.

She felt in her pocket and withdrew two pills. She popped them into her mouth, puckering at the bitterness. She was going to visit Professor Snape tomorrow and she wanted to get some rest. She was still having the nightmares, but they were different now.

Dream Snape would come and refuse to look or speak to her. She would try to run to him, but he turned and glided away. No matter how hard she ran, he was always just beyond her reach.

She laid down alongside Ron. He wasn't quite asleep and he hooked his arm over hers, drawing her closer to him. At least he slept better since her tremors were gone.

Hermione still contended with the nightmares and the feeling of loneliness. None of her friends could empathize with her problems. They never experienced the Cruciatus or the seizures it brought on. Only one other person she knew had. And this same person was in her nightmares. Hermione pondered this a bit.

She reflected on Ron's warmth, his breath on her hair and the feel of his arm across hers. He smelled like pine because he was hauling spent Christmas trees to the mulcher for extra money. Hermione wondered at Snape never having this. This sense of touch and warmth and smell with another person. _This intimacy._

She screwed her face up. For someone with a revulsion of touch, he spent a lot of time in proximity of others. He was a professor. He sat to meals in the Great Hall. She thought of the many times she saw Snape standing close to Dumbledore or McGonagall. And when he healed Draco, he was a wand's length away if not closer. And when he healed her...

She became hot thinking about Snape's hands hovering over her body. She wondered why Ron didn't make her feel that way.

What if it isn't a fear of touch? What if he doesn't know how? Or... Hermione thought and thought very hard. Maybe he's afraid of being rejected? Hermione was completely gobsmacked. Could that be it? Could it be so simple?

As a child he certainly would have craved his parents touch. Until he realized they didn't care. What could be worse than one's own parents not showing them affection?

Harry said Snape's memories of Lily showed him pursuing her, but she refused him. Professor Snape certainly went out of his way to intimidate and bully some people. Was it to push them away before they could reject him?

Then why did he hurt Draco? Hermione could not think of an answer.


	25. Chapter 25

25.

Lucius

As usual, Lucius brought Severus his evening meal. He took a seat at the table across from him and eyed his friend as he ate. Severus ate heartily for a change and Lucius pondered if this was a genuine appetite or a convoluted ploy.

He thought back on his unusual friendship with the man.

Young Master Snape had approached him, boldly asking to learn the Dark Arts. Despite his youth, Severus exhibited prodigious abilities. Only a few years separated them in age, but the child obviously idolized him. And if he brought Severus into the Death Eater fold, he could gain favor with the Dark Lord. How could he not mentor the boy?

Lucius taught and Severus listened. He instructed on politics, muggles, history, warfare, hexes, hereditary lineages, curses, and prospects for their mutual futures. He thought they both would fight for purity of the wizard world by exterminating the mudbloods. But Severus showed overt interest in the mudblood Lily Evans. To Lucius' careful evaluation, it was more than interest.

They also discussed travel, geography, art, literature, potions, ethics of genocide, muggle weaponry, geology, articles in the trade papers, famous wizards and witches, the curative powers of plants, astronomy, and their mutual incompetence in the culinary field.

At first, he chose to keep Severus as close as possible as an ally. Over time, he realized he enjoyed the other boy's company. In other words, they were friends. Lucius divulged his growing interest in Narcissa Black. Severus never spoke of any witch nor of Lily Evans.

As the boy became the man, Lucius became aware of Narcissa's courtesies towards Severus.

He studied Severus intently. They were so similar, yet so dissimilar. They were both tall, intelligent, clever, knowledgeable, acerbic, gentlemanly and powerful. They were both ambitious and wanted to master the Dark Arts.

Lucius with his clear eyes and colorless hair. Severus with his unfathomable dark stare and smudged locks.

He began inviting Severus to dinner. He would also invite Narcissa. Oh, the amusement he enjoyed watching Narcissa fawn over Severus who went unawares, lost in thoughts of unrequited desire. Even after Severus and Lily ended their relationship, Severus never acknowledged Narcissa's attentions.

Narcissa was not a fool. When Severus stated his aspiration was to teach, she deigned to Lucius' proposal to become Mrs. Malfoy.

Lucius was not a fool. He understood their union was based on prestige, ancestry, money and fame. It did not stop him from inviting Severus to their wedding as a taunt to his bride. The wedding night was... interesting.

Narcissa kept her eyes tight against his advances, offering her body, but not her heart. He did not care if she imagined Severus stroking... stoking her into pleasure, instead of him. After all, Severus never showed an inclination towards Narcissa or any woman since Lily. And, Lucius was not the jealous type. He relished his authority more than sexual release with any female.

He amused himself at Narcissa's expense while congratulating himself on the security of his friendship with Severus. He noted the man's capabilities and wondered if the two of them could defeat the Dark Lord and rule together. And then something happened.

During one of their Death Eater... activities, Lucius was thrown by a hex. Wandless and tumbling too fast to think, Severus supported him and brought him safely to ground. He thought hard on that event. He was positive Severus had flown. It was the first time he considered Severus might be a threat. It would not be the last time, either.

He decided to test Severus' loyalty. He implied the ease a certain mudblood had with spreading her legs for a certain Marauder. It was at that inopportune moment little Draco latched on to Severus' hand. Severus snapped the boys arm without thinking. He explained to Lucius his intense desire to kill baby Harry Potter himself, rather than let the Dark Lord bear the indignity. Lucius smiled.

Severus healed the boy efficiently and both men appreciated Narcissa's absence. After ensuring the child's affliction was neither visible nor permanent, Severus excused himself. He could not withstand those tiny red-rimmed eyes incredulously watching him.

Lucius could not wait to inform Narcissa. He took extra pleasure in staging the evening's dinner to put her at ease before slyly revealing the day's events. Narcissa was disbelieving. She confronted Severus herself and was shocked. Not that he would do such a thing, but the possibility it revealed. Could Severus be angry at her for having Lucius' child? Could Severus be jealous? She clung to the tenuous possibility as Spiritweed to Willowwood.

Lucius continued to watch his friend for signs of opposition, but Severus remained a loyal Death Eater and a trusted friend.

He realized, too late, Severus' true loyalty.

His own actions in the war were out of self-preservation for himself and his family, of course. He never doubted Severus' sincerity in agreeing to the Unbreakable Vow to protect his son. It was so... Severus.

As the bonds of the Unbreakable Vow brightened before dissipating thereby releasing their hold on the bearers, he had to help. How could he not attempt to save his friend?

It was indecent, the blood.

All of the Malfoys and the house elves used healing spells and plied Severus with blood-replenishing draughts. All of the Malfoys were surprised the man survived Nagini's poison.

They were also surprised at his mental state when he recouped well enough to talk. He was complacent and composed as though events like these were natural, occurring every day.

Lucius watched his family react to Severus' recovery. Draco was in complete awe. He had always admired Severus, but this was wonderment.

Narcissa could barely keep her hands to herself. She found ways to touch Severus without actually contacting his skin. She smoothed his hair and straightened his covers. She spelled him clean, spelled away his stubble and fed him. A house elf could attend the man, but she insisted Severus deserved their personal attention. Lucius was diverted by his wife's show.

When Severus regained his mobility, he discussed the implication his reported death would have on his prospects. He'd asked ever so casually for his wand.

Lucius laughed. He'd bring it with tea.

Later, when Lucius, Narcissa and Draco excused themselves with the end of tea, they'd only closed the door when Narcissa voiced a question. As Severus was doing so well, should they ask him to sup with them in the dining room? It seemed a pleasant notion and Lucius nodded approval.

She opened the door again and blinked. She didn't know why Severus chose to redecorate the room, but to her, the red was not appropriate. It was too... red. And then she realized the color was... dripping and... wet. She screamed herself into a faint. Lucius, then Draco and then all of the house elves busied themselves sealing the wounds to bother with her.

Severus lived, but relapsed into a state of catatonia.

Lucius warded and protected and instructed his house elves to do likewise. If this was how Severus would remain, Lucius would make his living comfortable... and safe.

It was by chance Lucius decided to purchase the Unwanted. He was certain Severus did not know the enchanted wall's purpose.

Unexpectedly, Spinner's End was placed for sale. Lucius did not foresee this event. He needed to secure the property and its belongings for Severus' hoped-for recovery.

He found himself bid against by none other than Harry Potter. Regrettably, Lucius admitted to himself Potter's vast fortune would garner the win. He evaluated the boy's reasoning and sincerity behind the purchase and surreptitiously divulged Severus' existence. It did not take long to convince the boy to come to the Manor. Nor long to plan between them the care of Severus once the boy saw for himself.

Time lapsed with no improvement, even with the arrival of more gaping children to disturb the Malfoy residence. He allowed the intrusion as the students' concern was evident and he had exhausted all of his ideas in rousing his friend. And then the Miss Granger incident occurred.

Lucius brought himself to the present and the presence of Severus. The man had completed his repast with relish and was sipping wine from a wood tumbler, no glass allowed. It was a comfortable moment of understanding.

"You must be bored with us," Lucius drawled. It was not a question.

Severus kept sipping as he pondered the efficacy of over-imbibing.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

Sun's Day

Snape took longer with his morning ablutions than he normally would. He performed the stubble removing spell as usual and ran his hand over his jaw. Without a mirror it was difficult to assure his thoroughness.

He put on the woolly socks from Miss Lovegood and a pair of the lounging pajamas from Mr. Potter. They were of impeccable material, soft yet thick and warm. They were of an olivey-green hue which Narcissa assured him went well with his coloring, or lack thereof.

He was sated and groomed and waiting anxiously for Miss Granger to arrive. He re-played several scenarios in his mind and found no fault. If she caught on quickly, the petty questions and answers would be completed in an hour.

Then, Snape could direct the conversation to important concerns. If Miss Granger felt an obligation towards himself, he would take the advantage. Snape could almost feel the silken gloss of his black walnut wand in his hand.

Snape heard the whoosh of the door as Miss Granger arrived on time. He heard her walk to her customary chair. Snape rehearsed his responses while waiting. He heard her grunt and watched her as she came into his peripheral view.

She carried her chair, placing it about two meters to his right. He could see her through his long hair as she adjusted the angle and sat down. She clasped her hands on her lap and began staring at the enchanted wall.

Snape tried not to look surprised, but he was. Snape tried not to look at her, but he did.

Instead of trainers, she wore clunky brown shoes. Her ankles were crossed in gray tights and _were those calves?_ A pleated gray skirt, a woolly jumper and... He dare not lift his head further lest his hair part.

He listened to her breathing. She didn't sound angry or upset. He eyed her sideways tilting his head ever so slightly. Yes, he could see her face now. Her brown hair was tamed with a band. Her profile revealed a dark smudge under her eye. She looked... peaked.

Snape resumed staring at the floor. This confrontation was not going as he imagined. Was the girl never going to speak? She should at least have the decency to stare at_ him_ instead of that blasted wall.

Snape glanced up at the shores of Kurdlish Bay. How was that more interesting than him? Snape fumed silently at the unexpected change in his plans. Twice he stopped himself from drumming his fingers in exasperation.

***

Hermione replayed the events of the past months in her head. She thought her silent visits with Snape would be reassuring to him, but there didn't seem to be any progress in his condition.

Then she was struck with a severe convulsion and he stopped it. She concentrated on her body and felt no residual tremors. Professor Snape cured... her. Whatever animosity he may have had for her as a former student, he willingly helped her.

Then there was the time she touched him. After hearing Draco's story, she goggled why the professor hadn't hurt her. He didn't even budge. And all that time he was conscious and aware of them. So, if he didn't try to hurt her, maybe he didn't _really_ want to. Or, maybe the end of the war did change him. She never would have considered him suicidal _before_.

Whatever the reasons, she was determined to help him in return. She would acclimate him to her presence. To her body. To her touch. If he was repulsed by touch, let him vent his anger on her. She could withstand his demonstrations. And if he broke her bones?

She deserved it for not coming to his aid in the Shrieking Shack as he told her every night in her dreams. If he was afraid of rejection, she would prove to him his touch would not be refused. That his touch would be welcome.

Hermione made a show of unclasping her hands, standing and turning around. She slid her chair closer to the professor and reseated herself. She watched the enchanted screen which displayed a montage of baby animals.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

McGonagall

Hermione approached Headmistress McGonagall after classes on Monday.

"Uh, Headmistress?"

Minerva McGonagall granted Hermione one of her beatific smiles, "Why, hello, Miss Granger. What brings you to my office today?"

"I was wondering... do you know any unmarried witches between thirty and forty-five?"

After years surrounded by students the like of the Weasleys, McGonagall thought she'd heard everything. "I beg your pardon?" She tilted her head forward to peer over her spectacles at the young lady.

"Well, you see. I have a friend, a wizard, and I was hoping to match him up with a witch. I've asked Professor Flitwick. And Hagrid, of course, but the only witches they knew of were all married, you see?"

Minerva thought she saw. "And this wizard would be?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "I'd rather not say." McGonagall frowned so Hermione continued apologetically, "He's really very shy. I don't think he'd appreciate being talked about or even what I'm trying to do."

Minerva looked perceptively at the woman for a moment. "You think he'll appreciate your... match-making, do you?"

"Uh, no, I don't." Hermione blushed but continued, "I really don't think he will, but he's been awfully lonely and well, he-everyone deserves the chance, don't they?"

"They do." Minerva stood from her desk and walked to the bookcase. She selected a very thin book indeed before sitting in an armchair. She paged the book slowly, eyes skimming the columns.

"It is a fortunate circumstance that most witches and wizards do marry. It is an unfortunate circumstance that some do not. Fortunately, many of those become teachers." Minerva flashed her eyes quickly at Hermione who tried not to fidget.

"Ah, she may do." Minerva paused with her finger on a page. She clucked and smiled. "Yes, she may do the job very well."


	28. Chapter 28

28.

Another Sunday

Hermione arrived at her scheduled time, grabbed a chair and placed it excessively near the professor's chair. She nodded in approval of his midnight blue clothes as she sat down. Instead of folding her hands in her lap, she laid them on the armrests, challenging the professor's own arms which were draped the same.

_We probably look a pair_, thought Hermione.

She purposely wore a halter, bare arms brushing the cloth of his shirtsleeves. She lazily rubbed the tips of her fingers against the fabric of her chair. She made certain she was very clean, moisturized and smelled good. She didn't want the professor to use those excuses against her touch. She took a deep breath.

_This is it_.

She turned to him suddenly and blurted, "Professor... why did you break Draco's arm?" At the same moment, she grabbed his hand in both of hers.

***

He had reacted instinctively to her address, turning his head toward her. He was clearly shocked by her question. He flinched and recoiled in his seat. He debated why of all things to ask, _that?_

She hadn't spoken to him since the day she kissed him. Yet, the girl must have her reasons for needing to know. She'd always respected his privacy when she was his student. Why did it matter to her? Perhaps She was falling for Draco?

He chose to speak carefully while looking into her eyes.

"Mr. Potter's mother was born Lily Evans. I met her when we were both children and we became friends. We came to Hogwarts and despite being sorted into separate houses, we remained friends. I misunderstood our relationship. I expressed love for her while she increasingly became infatuated by James Potter. We had a falling out when I insulted her," Snape paused. He waited for her to ask.

"W-what did you say to her?"

"I called her a mudblood."

Hermione forced herself not to pull away from him. She knew he could be mean, but that was cruelty.

"Lily Evans became Lily Potter and bore a son. I went to visit Mr. Malfoy while Mrs. Malfoy was out for the day. Mr. Malfoy may have surmised my affections for Lily Evans because he made a suggestion which was indecent." Snape paused.

"What did he say?" She felt Professor Snape's hand still in hers and she wondered at the novelty.

"That is of no consequence. However, my thoughts went immediately to their infant. I was filled with hatred. Lily should have been with me and that child should have been mine. It was at that moment Draco grabbed my hand."

She soothingly rubbed her thumb against the back of the professor's hand.

"I broke Draco's arm, but not with my hand as he believes. I thought of breaking Mr. Potter's arm and the arm beneath my fingers shattered."

Hermione could not believe this. "You hexed Draco without a wand?"

"Apparently, as that is what occurred. I was in shock myself and regretted it immediately. I mended the bone and left."

"Why didn't Mr. Malfoy stop you?"

"I told Mr. Malfoy that in the moment, I wanted to kill Harry Potter to prevent the Dark Lord from such a debasement."

"He believed you?" Hermione scoffed.

Snape looked his coldest at Hermione. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy believed me. It was the truth."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She felt her skin prickle with nerves and her heart was beating hard. She found herself talking before she could hold her tongue, "All this time... you did... you actually wanted to kill Harry?!"

They rose from their seats together, tempers increasing.

"No, you, stupid girl. Only then! As I said. It was a moment I regret and apparently, I will continue to do so for having told you." Snape became aware of where his hand was. He tried pulling free, but Hermione clung hard.

"B-but you would have done it? If it had been Harry. If you were there with him and not Draco, you would have... killed him?"

"I explained the incident. I am not going to excuse my actions to you. I have spoken plainly. Now, unhand me!" Snape wrenched his arm, accidentally pulling Hermione into his chest. She released his hand and grabbed his shirt, shaking it and looking deeply into his eyes.

"Please, tell me you wouldn't have killed a baby?!" Her tears were heavy as she shook her head. Hermione's disillusionment was complete.

"I said, unhand me, Miss Granger! I will use force!" Snape pried at her fingers.

"You can't hex me! Not in here!"

"I don't need a hex. You forget I'm a man and stronger than you!"

Hermione's eyes grew large in fright, but she tightened her grip. Snape yanked her hands from his shirt, ripping the material. He applied pressure to one wrist causing her to howl. His spun her around, pinning her arm to her back. He pushed her hard, propelling her away from him. Her momentum overcame her feet. She threw her arms out to brace herself as she fell to the floor.

He watched her a moment before stalking to the bedroom where he slammed the door after himself. She didn't know how long she lay on the floor crying.


	29. Chapter 29

29.

A night and a morning

Hermione popped a sleeping pill the moment she made it into the Malfoy's parlor. She donned a sweater to hide the bruises on her wrists.

She begged a headache at Spinner's End and went to bed. She twisted the bedclothes as she flailed, damp from sweat and tears. She swallowed two more pills and just before Ron came to bed, another.

Ron had difficulty waking Hermione the next morning. He shook her hard and as her swollen eyes sought his face, she murmured she felt ill. She asked him to owl the school she would be absent today. Ron checked on her several more times. When she gave him a smile and sat up against the headboard, he felt she wasn't too ill to leave on her own.

Her friends packed their bags and each bid her goodbye. She heard the front door close several times. She listened to the house. After a bit, she donned a robe and went down to the kitchen for tea. Harry was at the table waiting for her.

"Harry? Don't you have to be at the Ministry?"

"Tha's 'kay, 'Mione. I owled Shacklebolt I'd be late." He watched her carefully, seeing the tiredness in her face and her doughy complexion. She shuffled to the counter and made a tea and sat next to Harry. They both sipped and waited for the other.

"'Mione... why don't you just say? Whatever it is that's hanging you... keepin' it inside is makin' you ill."

Hermione hugged her cup and tried not to cry, again. She nodded into the steam and began. She told Harry about her encounter with the professor the morning before. She omitted his bruising her wrist, his threat and him pushing her to the floor.

"But, 'Mione, the professor didn't kill me. I'm here. I'm real."

"But he wanted to Harry. He said he wanted to kill you. You were a baby. How could anyone do that?! And we've been helping him like he was as regular as us. You've been doing so much for him!"

Harry shook his head. "He may have said he wanted to kill me, but he didn't. If he wanted to kill, then why did he only break Draco's arm? He could have Avada Kedavra'd him, right? He told you he thought of killing me. Then Draco should be dead. No. Despite what he might have said to you or to anybody... I can't doubt the man's actions, Hermione."

Now Hermione shook her head. "Harry, he didn't have his wand out. It was too quick. Don't forget Mr. Malfoy was there. How could the professor kill Draco in front of Mr. Malfoy?"

"Doesn't matter. If Snape said he wanted to kill me, then he would have. He had plenty of chances, you know?"

"But there were people around, Dumbledore and McGonagall and Ron and myself... "

Harry was shaking his head. "You said this happened around when? Draco was nine, ten months old?"

Hermione nodded in acquiescence. "About that."

"Well, there, you see?" Harry said, "Why would Snape say he wanted to kill me and not a month or so later, save my life?"

"No, Harry, he was trying to save your mother, not you."

"I don't mean his telling Dumbledore to move my parents and me to Godric Hollow, Hermione. I mean the night Voldemort came to kill me. Snape was there."

Hermione's eyes were O's.

"Snape's memories with my mother... when they came... while Voldemort was killing my father... Snape was in my room. He tried to take me, but my mother misunderstood. She thought... Snape wanted to kill me or maybe take me to Voldemort."

"What makes you think he _wasn't_ trying to kill you?"

Harry said simply, "Because of his tears."

Some time later, Hermione said she felt better and suggested Harry get to the Ministry. Harry glanced at his watch.

"No point in my heading to the Ministry yet. It's nearly my time for visiting with Snape."

"Harry? Would you mind if I go?"

"You feel up to it?"

"I really don't want to tackle school today. It would give me something to do and you missed your morning training by sitting with me."

Harry nodded agreeably and headed to the Ministry.


	30. Chapter 30

30.

A day

Snape was pacing his room awaiting Mr. Potter's arrival, working himself into a temper. He was going to have words with the boy. This farce would end now. No more visiting. No more pitying looks from him or his friends. The door opened and he opened his mouth. It remained open as he watched Miss Granger enter.

She had doffed her cloak in the parlor, transferring her cache of pills into the pocket of her skirt. She had taken a moment to smooth her short-sleeved blouse before entering.

She didn't look at him, merely walked slowly to take her seat.

"Miss Granger?" The professor's voice was rigid.

"Miss Granger." A bit louder. Hermione was passing him by.

He grabbed her forearm and pulled her close. "Miss Granger!"

She looked uncomprehendingly into those eyes so void of emotion.

"Why are you here?" he hissed.

"Harry missed his morning training. I did not feel well enough to attend classes."

Snape eyed her over. She indeed did not look well. Her face was puffy and her eyes slightly unfocused. He could tell she had not slept well and there was a medicinal odor about her which he analyzed. He held her arm up and examined the bruises on her wrist.

"You made no attempt to heal yourself?"

Hermione leaned in closer, staring up at him with justification. With her free hand she splayed the placket of his shirt open. The pads of her fingers brushed the scars on his chest and stayed there.

"Nor you."

"They are in remembrance of my offenses."

"As are mine."

Snape swallowed hard. He noted with Miss Granger's proximity they were practically embraced. Her fingertips were light and warm on his chest. He felt the puff of her exhalations on his skin. It reminded him of the time she whispered against his temple after kissing him. He thought of her lips and couldn't stop himself from looking down at her mouth. He noted her lips were the color of raspberries and how tender they looked. If he inclined his head he could... kiss those lips.

Snape was shocked with himself. To diffuse his growing heat he demanded, "Why have you come?"

"Oh, I want to apologize."

Snape released her arm in confusion. "What?!"

"It was impolite and unnecessary for me to question your behavior. Past or future. I ask you to forgive me, please?"

Snape was dumbfounded. Hermione stepped away and watched him earnestly.

"Apology accepted," he said too fast and moved towards her. "Now let me make my own amends."

He delicately took her arm and re-examined the bruises, mumbling to himself. He affected a casual manner, "My wand is necessitated for the delicacy of this procedure. You can procure it, I trust."

Hermione started chuckling and then laughing hard enough to hold her stomach. "Professor... really?"

He strictured himself to sound cold. "What is it, Miss Granger?" He wasn't sure if he'd ever heard the girl laugh before. Snape found it fetching.

"I'm not as gullible as all that."

Snape scowled, "I assure you it is necessary."

"Well, then, my bruises will have to heal themselves as I have no intention of bringing you your wand, or any wand." She sat in her usual chair.

"You could attend Madame Pomfrey."

"Oh, no. I don't want anyone to know. I-I'd have to explain."

"Perhaps, if I instructed Mr. Weasley on exacting the healing spell?"

Hermione bit her lip, "No, not him either."

Snape wondered at Miss Granger's statement. She apparently had not and had no intention of divulging the incident to anyone.

Snape and Hermione silently considered they shared a secret in mutual acquiescence.

Snape chose to sit in his accustomed seat beside her. He hesitated and stretched his arms along the guides to mimic Miss Granger's posture.

He derisively remarked, "What shall we talk about? NEWTS? SPEW?"

Hermione looked to him with enthursiasm, "How about your future?"

The girl was seemingly determined to astonish him at every chance. "I have no future, Miss Granger."

"But you must! You can't let your talents waste."

"Miss Granger."

"No, you're a Potions Master. You taught at the prestigious Hogwarts. You've done so much for us and you're a war hero!" Hermione's ardor evident.

"Miss Granger! You forget that I am deceased."

"Well, we've seen you and done all right. You can be re-introduced to the world somehow. Perhaps, in steps. We could bring Hagrid, then Professor Flitwick... "

"Miss Granger! Your forget me."

Hermione looked puzzled.

"I have no desire to partake in this world anymore." He took a breath. "I meant to speak with Mr. Potter regarding this matter, but as you are here... you nor your friends are to come here anymore."

Hermione was taken aback. "What-why?"

"Why?! It is obvious, is it not? Not only are you all wasting your time, but I am sick of listening to their selfish, infantile mewlings!"

Hermione tried not to cry. "P-P-Professor!"

Snape gave her one of his coldest scowls, "Hardly, Miss Granger."

She fled from the room.


	31. Chapter 31

31.

Narcissa

Narcissa brought him lunch. She graced the room in a contrary way which made Snape frown.

"Severus," she purred and patted the seat next to hers. "Why so dejected?"

He sat and toyed with the proffered dishes. "It is a hopeless affair, is it not?"

She sipped tea and arched her brows in humor, "This luncheon?"

"No. My state."

"Hmm, Severus. You did give us a scare. Quite unpleasant. I nearly didn't complete my evening perambulation."

He eyed her mirth. "Narcissa, why so happy?"

"Oh, I have much to be happy about. Lucius is regaining his credibility. Draco is acquiring new friends and doing well at school. You... are eating and speaking."

"And?"

"And... much as I'd like to credit my family with your recuperation, it is obvious your former students have greatly influenced you."

"You think so?"

"Mm-hmm." She bit into an orange section with great refinement and watched him. "And Severus?"

"Hmm." He could tell something was waiting for him.

"_You_ have been a great influence on my family. Lucius and I have valued your friendship."

He watched Narcissa over his tea.

"Your guidance and protection for Draco has been a boon to him. Without you, he might have slipped beyond remorse. We can never repay you for saving our son." She chose each word with care. "But, I will not allow you to destroy the one thing he cares for."

He frowned, "I don't understand, Narcissa?"

"Draco admires you, has always wanted to emulate you, Severus. You confused him when you cast the hex on yourself."

Snape shuffled his legs with unease, "It was not my intention for Draco to witness _that_."

"It was not exclusively your action to which I refer. If the man he esteems deigns to kill himself, what value will Draco have for his own life?" Narcissa arched her brow.

"I-I had not considered the affect of my intent," Snape admitted.

"No, you hadn't. I never expected _you_ to be so selfish," Narcissa said bitterly.

Snape looked at her sharply and, after a moment, with true sorrow.


	32. Chapter 32

32.

A week

Snape was becoming fidgety, pacing the room at every spare moment. The week passed quickly though as his visitors maintained positive outlooks and inundated him with requests.

When Mr. Potter arrived with Lucius bearing the dinner tray, Snape was surprised. Apparently, Mr. Potter felt guilty about missing their morning appointment. Snape scoffed and tried several times to tell Mr. Potter to bugger off. Each time he opened his mouth, Mr. Potter had some absurdity to express.

Could Ginny bring her parents to visit? Since they, Ginny and himself, were to be married, it was only right her parents be present and Snape gave his word to Ginny that he would attend the wedding. Since they were Order of the Phoenix members, it's not like they couldn't keep a secret. What about George? Would he be allowed to visit? And would Snape like to see Teddy? His Auror training involved the use of the dimjack, but Harry didn't think it was ethical, did Snape?

And on, and on with an amused Lucius propped in a corner.

Ron was his usual self, full up of Quidditch news and jokes. Snape returned one of his own which Ron actually enjoyed. Listening to them both laughing caused Snape to think of Miss Granger's laugh. He asked Mr. Weasley if he saw much of Miss Granger.

Ron explained he visited Hermione every so often after school and of course, they were together every weekend at Spinner's End.

Snape mentioned that in his opinion, Miss Granger did not look well.

Ron said Hermione had those tremors from the curse and the nightmares. Even though the curse was gone, she still had bad dreams. He said Hermione didn't sleep. Well, she didn't sleep most of the time, but then other mornings it was like waking the dead.

And how did Mr. Weasley know this?

Ron had stammered that when they were at Spinner's End, they were, ya know, together.

Of course, Snape had replied coolly.

Neville and Luna each talked of a future nuptial to the other. Would Snape very much mind being present? They talked about experiments in herbology, which piqued Snape's interest more than he would admit. Luna considered traveling after her father, but she didn't think Neville would enjoy that. Neville hoped to see the world before settling down to research, but he didn't think Luna would enjoy that.

Ginny brought her parents and a lemon chiffon pie for Snape. Snape tripped over a futon backing from Mrs. Weasley's embrace. Mrs. Weasley couldn't stop expressing how healthy Snape looked and Mr. Weasley tried to pump his hand with gratitude. Ginny whispered to Snape if he thought she should return to school.

Harry came again on Friday bearing a much-grown Teddy. Harry carried brochures for Snape to look over - properties Ginny and he were considering. The visit was cut short when Teddy transformed into both a monkey and a snake and kept trying to tie knots in himself.

Draco came on Saturday. Snape stared at him throughout the visit, gaging how to say what needed said. Draco told of his studies, his new friends, which Snape somehow doubted, and his expectant outcome after sitting the NEWTS. Draco was making to leave when Snape threatened him.

Snape said that he thought much of him and that he would be most grievously disappointed if Draco ever considered trying to do what he himself had done, and Draco knew very well what Snape was referring to.

If Draco did try it, he best do the job well enough or else. Snape went on to infer how he would finish the job for Draco and Snape would _not_ use magic. Draco swallowed at that. Snape was gratified at the look in the boy's eyes before he left.

There were also all the visits in between from either Narcissa or Lucius.

Lucius was certain he could get Severus a post in the Ministry, perhaps as Lucius' assistant. If Severus was set on teaching, there were pure-blood families eager to accept private tutelage for their heirs, no questions asked. Of course, Severus could attain a teaching position anywhere due to the public approval for him.

Severus was incredulous.

Lucius affirmed the Potions Master was highly regarded after his war efforts. His accounts were still being published in the Daily Prophet.

Severus was excessively embarrassed at the acclaim.

Before leaving, Lucius asked, "Severus, do you know a a Miss Dryope Polyxena Dex?"

Severus sorted through his considerable memory and said, "No."

"Well," said Lucius, "she apparently knows you. She's been writing to Narcissa."

"And, what does she say?" said Severus with mild inquisitiveness.

"Oh, how she used to admire you from afar. Followed you about school, but you were smitten with someone else. How she regrets not declaring her affection for you years ago. And, how reading about your death in the papers has stirred those feelings again."

Severus considered this information with skepticism. "Sounds like a nutter."

"I wouldn't say. I've checked her family. Pure-bloods. Established. No scandals. A country estate on the shore by Hull. The girl, er, lady was privately tutored after age 15."

"Narcissa hasn't mentioned these letters."

Lucius arched an eyebrow, "No, I wonder why not?"

The next time Narcissa visited, Snape watched her carefully. She was her ever poised self, elegant and aristocratic. She didn't mention Miss Dex or the letters.

Snape considered why Narcissa would not tell him, but could come to no agreeable answer. He did not like to be manipulated.

When tea was nearly done, Snape asked Narcissa to write a letter for him as he was neither allowed a quill ( to pointy) nor an owl (even pointier).

Narcissa heartily agreed and inquired to whom she should write.

"Why, I've been thinking of a childhood friend... a Miss Dex."

Narcissa almost spilled her tea. "Uh, Miss Dex? I don't believe you've mentioned her before?"

"Uh, no. It is only recently I recalled my relationship with her. You know when you hear a name or a word and it reminds you of someone or something else?"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed at him. "Certainly, Severus. I shall send a letter immediately. What would like me to tell the dear thing?"

"Contrary to the papers, I am alive. I regret our not having been on better terms in our youth, but I affix that to my boorishness. You will understand from the reports, my station has changed drastically. If you wish to correspond, I will be grateful for the civility, etc. etc."


	33. Chapter 33

33.

The Sunday after

Even though Snape did not expect Miss Granger to return, he attended to his grooming with deliberation. He was uncertain of the new aubergine tunic until Miss Granger appreciated the color. He, in turn, tried not to notice her figure in her lilac shift. She was becoming thin. He found it unpleasant.

_Why, I could remedy that_, thought Snape and asked if Miss Granger would share Ginny's pie with him? She startled, but then agreed.

Instead of sitting side-by-side in front of the enchanted wall, they sat side-by-side at the table, each poking at their dessert.

"You do eat?" He said into his plate.

"Of course," she exchanged haughtily. She made an effort to spoon a rather large bite into her mouth to show him, but it plopped onto the plate. After another feeble attempt, she gave up and fingered it into her mouth. She drank several cups of water.

Snape noted this and her drowsy look. He chose his tack.

"You feel confident as to the upcoming NEWTS?"

She shruggingly said, "As confident as I always am."

"That bad?" She gave a weak smirk which livened him. "And afterwards?"

"What of it?"

"Your career choice? Future employment? You must have some aspiration?"

"Not immediately. I think I should wait and see how things progress."

"What things?" Snape was very interested. He expected Miss Granger to have her life plotted with chronological tables for significant events, an abbreviation page and a definition of terms used.

"W-well, I didn't think too far because of the curse. I didn't know what I could manage or not."

Snape said quickly, "That has been remedied. Besides, you would have thought of your career before the war... while in school."

"Er, well. I did have two options I'd thought about."

The girl was hedging in the most annoying manner. "Well, Miss Granger? Must I pull it out of you?"

"Possibly transfiguration or... potions." She blushed deeply.

Snape digested the idea. "Potions would definitely be out."

Hermione was furious and she rose from her seat, "What?!"

"Sit down, Miss Granger!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her into her chair. "Can we not have one one conversation without you erupting like Nyiragongo!" She capitulated.

"Now, while you were adequate at potions, it was however, typically rote. You memorized and simply repeated what you'd read, correct?"

Hermione regrettably nodded.

"That is quite distinctive from being able to innovate. If you choose a career in potions, you will find yourself forever brewing someone else's imaginings. Unless, you will settle for being an assistant?" He looked at her sharply.

Was he offering her a job? "Uh, possibly. It would depend on whom I was working for."

She was so transparent that he felt sad for her.

Snape nodded comprehensibility. "Yes, that is what I thought. However, transfiguration may do you well. Very well. I think you should speak with Miss McGonagall regarding that career choice before deciding, don't you?" He looked at her very sternly indeed.

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Do you think you will be seeing Miss McGonagall soon?"

"I could stop by her office tomorrow."

"Good. I believe Mrs. Malfoy has a note for her."


	34. Chapter 34

34.

The office

Minerva read the missive three times before looking at Hermione.

"You say this is from _Mrs. Malfoy_?"

"Uh, yes. She did give it to me."

Minerva looked the parchment over again. It _was_ in Mrs. Malfoy's handwriting...

Minerva set the parchment down and looked squarely at the girl in front of her. Miss Granger was a bit untidy, as usual, but her eyes were blurry and she did not sit straight. She was slumped in the chair as if she had no energy. Her skin was white and dry with dark circles under the eyes.

"Miss Granger, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Hermione quizzed back, "Like what?"

"Anything at all, dear. Is something troubling you?"

Hermione glanced at the paper on the desk and licked her lips. "Uh, no. Everything is fine."

"I like to think that I am not merely a professor or the Headmistress at Hogwarts, but a woman and a friend when needed."

"Of course, but really, there's nothing."

Minerva studied the girl. The girl had miraculously recovered from Cruciatus after Christmas for which there was no accounting. Recuperated, young, intelligent and loved... the girl should be in the pink of health, but she was shriveling away.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Before we discuss a career in transfiguration, we will visit Madam Pomfrey."

"But, why?! I said I'm alright."

"Because I agree with Mrs. Malfoy's concern to to prescribe you a sleeping draught in place of the muggle sleeping pills you've been relying upon."


	35. Chapter 35

35.

That night

In her Gryffindor bedroom Hermione shared with Cornelia, both girls were tucked in bed. Cornelia was deep asleep in her own bed across the room. Hermione had shown Cornelia the purple potion and assured her she would not need anyone to snuggle with tonight. Hermione was mulling over the day.

Headmistress McGonagall surprised her by not asking more questions. She instructed Madam Pomfrey to provide a sleeping draught to Miss Granger every third day. With the stipulation that Miss Granger submit to a brief diagnostic beforehand.

Miss McGonagall explained that as long as the exam did not show a physical problem, the sleeping potion would be prescribed. Miss McGonagall did not mention the use of sleeping pills to Madam Pomfrey, another surprise.

Back in Headmistress McGonagall's office, she provided a list of recommended courses Hermione should take if she chooses a career in transfiguration. Alternatively, she could take an apprenticeship, for which Miss McGonagall will provide a letter of reference.

Or, Miss Granger could take an apprenticeship with herself. It would entail working as a teacher's assistant besides keeping up with her transfiguration studies and an independent research project.

Miss McGonagall reviewed the syllabus for the recommended classes and asked Miss Granger if she had any questions. Hermione didn't, so after thanking Miss McGonagall several times, she prepared to leave.

Miss McGonagall gave Hermione one more surprise. She wanted Hermione to tell Mrs. Malfoy to owl her immediately if there was to be a change in Hermione's care.

Now, after a long day, Hermione still didn't know what to do. She was almost positive Professor Snape discovered her use of sleeping pills and instructed Mrs. Malfoy to write the note to Miss McGonagall. She couldn't see McGonagall taking the word of Mrs. Malfoy, particularly over a potion for a mudblood.

No, it had to be Professor Snape. And, McGonagall must know it was the professor. Should she have told Headmistress McGonagall about the professor? Without his permission, she didn't feel it was her place to tell anyone.

She turned the potion bottle around in her hand and thought. If the professor was responsible for getting her the potion, it was one more thing she owed him. She uncorked the bottle and swallowed it whole. She was already working on paying him back for curing her tremors. She wondered what else she could do for him.


	36. Chapter 36

36.

The next Sunday

Snape rose earlier than his usual to be groomed and dressed. Miss Granger had asked if she could join him for breakfast instead of at the later period.

He watched her walk to the table, her eyes still unfocused, her gait was unsure. He held her chair so she wouldn't fall. They dug into the meal and Miss Granger's mouth filled with gooseberry jam and ideas for his future.

She had researched current open positions for potions or DADA teachers, and notices for private tutors. Ron had checked on shopkeepers looking to retire. From Harry she received an accounting of available posts at the Ministry.

Mr. Malfoy and Harry both stated they would fund the professor in any endeavor he wished. And Mr. Malfoy added that even if he simply wanted to continue to lolly about, well, that would be alright, too.

"Mr. Malfoy said that, did he?"

"Mm-hmm," she said around her toast.

Miss Granger's comment jarred him. He hadn't considered the cost Lucius or the Potter boy were laying out on his behalf. Mr. Potter had purchased Spinner's End, not pricey, but still the boy should be spending his money with his future bride.

Lucius had the furniture padded, purchased the enchanted wall, the food, the wine, the guard and bore the intrusion into his home. There was also the emotional stress which Narcissa hinted to in regards to Draco. Wouldn't Lucius and Narcissa be affected by what he had done also?

Then there was the trouble his former students were going to in keeping him company. Changing their schedules, taking time out of their day.

_I am a bother and I have been selfish_, he thought.

He watched Miss Granger talking. He wondered why the sleeping draught wasn't helping her.

He interrupted, "Miss Granger, have you chosen which field to pursue?"

"Uh, yes."

"And?" He knew before she said it.

"Potions, sir."

Snape did not like that at all. He knew she was doing it out of some obligation or respect to himself, but he did not know why. Did she think she was repaying him for curing her of the Cruciatus?

The girl was bright and eager. In potions she will become stifled and bored. He thought of chastising her for the decision, but he shrugged the thought away. If she wanted to toil, that was for herself to live with... and Mr. Weasley.

"If you wish, I can draw a list of classes you should take?"

Hermione had been holding her breath expecting the professor to abuse her stupidity. Yet he was offering his help, again. She was confused by his cordiality. She didn't remark on it, but she wouldn't forget he held her chair. Or, that he didn't withdraw or comment on her repeatedly touching his arm throughout the period.

"Yes, please, sir. I would be most grateful if you don't mind." She paused and continued, "Do you think, would you mind if all of us came next Saturday?" She laid her hand on his wrist and left it there.

"What for?"

"We would all like to have dinner with you. Ginny wants to cook a full meal and it could be anything you please."

"Is it for a particular occasion?"

"Well, Neville and Luna want to announce their wedding." She noticed his blankness. "Would that be difficult for you?"

He saw the concern in her eyes and he patted her arm while saying, "No, no difficulty at all. Tell Miss Weasley that whatever she prepares will be a pleasure of mine."


	37. Chapter 37

37.

Saturday

Lucius outdid himself. He and the house elves transformed an adjacent room into a dining section and a well-appointed sitting area. The room was quite similar to Snape's, but the padding was all of a dark plum. The hidden lighting was dimmer, there was no enchanted wall and a there was a deep fireplace with proper wards.

The elves made an archway type of thing to connect the rooms and additional lavatories secreted behind floor screens and plants. Lucius added a guard and checked and rechecked the safety measures.

When the students arrived bearing the food, the elves magicked the china and cutlery away. Instead, the food was born on sturdy wooden dishes with wooden spoons for utensils.

Ginny frowned at the roast and asked the elves if they could at least cut the meat as they couldn't have knives. The elf gave a growl and a snap and the roast was in perfect bites. Ginny nodded with much approval at the precision.

The meal was set and they walked to the table. Hermione maneuvered herself to be next to Snape. He instinctively held the chair for her as Draco did for Ginny which startled Ron into trying to seat Luna.

The food was incredible and the conversation fast. They seemingly talked about everything.

Snape thought they were outdoing themselves, affecting false interest and cheer. He gradually realized it was the effect of good friendship. It reminded him of when he first joined the Slytherins, before the rivalries and jockeying for position began.

He effortlessly followed the conversation while following the movements of Miss Granger. Since she asked him about Draco's arm, he considered the girl might have developed an interest in the boy. Snape didn't see her pay any more attention to Draco than she did to Mr. Weasley. Snape did not notice the extra attention Miss Granger was paying to himself or he chose to ignore it.

Neville and Luna stood and formally announced their nuptials. Champagne was passed and everyone drank a hearty goblet full.

He observed Miss Granger's sluggish movements. She'd also slurred a few of her words. He would have Narcissa owl McGonagall to ensure the sleeping draught was being prescribed. Perhaps she needed the potion nightly?

The elated couple asked Snape if he would attend the wedding if the Malfoys allowed them to hold it at the Manor. Snape tried to decline, proffering more appropriate and desirable locales, but he graciously ceded their request.

Dessert was cut and passed on plates. Hermione handed Snape his share. As he took the proffered plate, his hand cupped and held hers.

The sensation made her mouth go dry and her heart was beating very fast and very loud.

He stared into her with those black eyes noticing her disconcertion.

She could see his mouth moving, but she could only hear the blood thundering in her ears. She tried to focus on his eyes. If she could keep focusing on...

Miss Granger fainted.

Snape was familiar with fainters. He said Miss Granger's name, then set the plate onto the table while reaching his other arm around her waist. He caught her as she collapsed into his shoulder. He quickly lifted her and carried her to a sofa in the sitting area. All the while the diners erupted in distress and concern.


	38. Chapter 38

38.

Hogwarts

Hermione eased her eyes open slowly. She felt sore and parched. She tried looking around, but her neck was cramped as were her legs when she stretched. She drifted in and out of consciousness for another hour before coming reasonably awake.

From the looks of things, she was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Laid out in a cot, sheet to her chin. A white arch of metal below her feet, another over her head. A little table beside her bed was littered with potions in all colors and sizes.

It was too dark to see anyone about.

She whispered, "Water."

Madam Pomfrey was instantly at her side. Looking down in an incredibly impossibly sad way at Hermione.

"Well, we are awake, are we? Wanting water? Of course, you would be." Pomfrey retrieved a glass of water for Hermione and assisted her with holding it to her lips. "There now. Not too much at once. Better?"

Hermione nodded and settled into her pillow. She began to ask, but was shushed by a hand.

"You're at Hogwarts and you are safe. You need a bit more rest. I am going to give you another draught. Open wide."

Pomfrey gave Hermione a purple potion. Hermione recognized the taste and smell.


	39. Chapter 39

39.

Tuesday night

The next time Hermione awoke, it was not quite so dim. She could move more easily and rolled over onto her side where she spied Ron in the next cot curled asleep.

Madam Pomfrey appeared and ran a diagnostic over the girl before huffing. She informed Hermione she was to see the Headmistress as soon as she was able to stand. Hermione did so quickly knowing not to keep McGonagall waiting.

Once dressed and combed, she shook Ron awake. They hugged tightly and he called her several names for scaring him so.

They held hands as he escorted her to the Headmisttress' office. He waited outside while she went up the stone gargoyle.

"Sit down, Miss Granger." McGonagall said sternly. She was very erect behind the desk, hands clasped and spectacles perched on the tip of her nose.

Hermione sat.

"I am very disappointed in you, Miss Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth then shut it.

"We prescribed you sleeping draughts, yet you continued to take the muggle sleeping pills." McGonagall held up a hand. "No use denying it, Miss Granger. Your friends found pills in your pocket, a bottle in your bag and when you were analyzed, you had remnants of the chemical in your blood stream. I've owled your parents and they provided me with very disturbing information regarding these pills. Apparently, the side effects of the drug are severe enough, but you combined it with alcohol."

Hermione remembered the champagne. _So, that's why I fainted. I thought it was because of the professor's touch..._

"Miss Granger." McGonagall snapped. "I am greatly disheartened to do this to you. You are on academic probation. You will not be allowed to attend any classes nor sit exams until your health improves and you are no longer ingesting those pills." McGonagall waited, but the girl was in shock. "Whatever the problem is, you must resolve it soon. Not only are you putting yourself behind further academically, but your health is greatly at risk." She watched as Hermione began crying.

McGonagall came around her desk. She stood in front of Miss Granger and pulled her out of her seat to give her a hug. "Miss Granger, you could have died," she said softly.

"Whatever is distressing you, I am sure it can be resolved if you talk about it."

"I-I can't."

"Is there no one you can speak with?"

"He-he won't listen to me."

McGonagall considered the statement. "Miss Granger, I have found in my many years teaching students, that it is impossible _not_ to listen. It is whether they heed your words or not. Now, Mr. Weasley will escort you to your parents."


	40. Chapter 40

40.

The Grangers

The Grangers were shocked at their daughter's appearance. Ron did his best to provide a distraction. Hermione did look as though she'd slept, but the thinness of her form and the anxious look in her face bothered them.

The Grangers fixed the spare for Ron if he wished to stay the night. Hermione examined the row of potion bottles in her bag. She informed her parents she wouldn't need the cot in their room tonight.

After a thick meal, they sat to watch the telly. Ron cuddled with Hermione as Mrs. Granger watched her daughter twisting the fabric of her pocket.

Later, when Hermione was tucked in bed, she was idling the potion in her hand when her mother entered to bid her night. Mrs. Granger perched on the bed and noticed her daughter twirled the bottle the same way she had twisted the fabric of her jeans.

She wondered what to say. "You know your father and I do like Ronald."

Hermione gave her mum a syrupy smile. "Everyone likes Ron."

"Including you?"

"Things are fine between us."

"Have you discussed a future?"

"No, not really. It's... things have been busy, you know? Since the end of the war. Ron has to work and I want to finish school. We have other commitments, too. I guess we don't see each other as much as we should... or could."

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Granger spoke slowly as she stroked her daughter's messy curls. "You haven't fallen for someone else?"

Hermione's eyes widened, "You're joking, right?! I love Ron!"

"of course you do, dear, it's just... you look like you're thinking of someone else."

"No, mum. It's just the nightmares is all." _But, that's the same thing, isn't it?_

"Your father and I would like to set you an appointment with a doctor. A psychiatrist."

Hermione looked into her mother's concerned face. "Mum, could I have more time. I just need a few more days, right?"

The rest of the week went quickly. Hermione ate and she read. She owled Harry she wouldn't be at Spinner's End the coming weekend.


	41. Chapter 41

41.

Son's day

Snape could not guess if Miss Granger would return.

After he deposited her on the sofa when she fainted, he'd noted her shallow breathing and erratic pulse.

Mr. Weasley said she needed St. Mungo's. Draco said the healers would question her recovery from the Cruciatus. Miss Lovegood said Hogwarts and away they all went, leaving Snape to worry the night alone.

Lucius popped in after lunch the next day to say Miss Granger was recovering. She had taken three, possibly four sleeping pills and it was still in her system. The added champagne compounded the sedative effect, nearly putting her into a coma.

The rest of the week went slowly. Snape ate and he read. He asked his visitors about Miss Granger's condition. He learned of her suspension from school. The girl was living back at her parents. Mr. Potter said Miss Granger owled she would not attend Spinner's End this weekend.

Snape wondered if that was in avoidance of her friends or in avoidance of him.

She did come the following Sunday.

He watched her with his arms crossed and his mind open. He examined her without prejudice or anger. She looked healthier in body if not in spirit. Her ombre halter dress revealing her renewed appetite.

She didn't look at him, but took her chair and hung her head. Her fidgeting hands toyed with the fabric in a way he was too familiar with. Her posture was stiff as though she was awaiting a known punishment. It made him frown.

"Miss Granger?" he asked all concern.

She didn't answer him, so he stepped closer. "Miss Granger, I am glad to see you out of hospital. However, you are not recovered and you should return to your parents' home." He paused, but she did not respond. "I will not be slighted if you wish to cut your visit short."

She would not lift her head. "I-I.. I want to... I want to tell you about the pills." She heaved a deep breath before continuing, " I take the pills so I won't have dreams. Otherweise, I have nightmares," she whispered. "Every night."

He waited patiently with concern.

She was trying hard to be a brave Gryffindor. "Someone is scolding me for not helping them. At other times, I'm chasing after him, but he keeps moving beyond my reach. I can't catch him and he won't stop or look at me."

"Have you spoken to Madam Pomfrey about these nightmares?"

"No, no one, sir."

"Would you like me to speak to Madam Pomfrey for you?"

Hermione shook her head.

Snape still stood with his arms crossed and bored his eyes at her. Miss Granger was sitting with her head bowed, hair loosely hiding her face. She hadn't looked at him since entering the room and she was evidently uncomfortable relating this information to him. _If she doesn't want to tell me, then why... _

"Miss Granger, am I in these dreams?"

Hermione nodded. She began to say, "I-I'm sor- "

He was instantly on bended knee before her. He clutched her hands in her lap while lifting her chin with his free hand. Her eyes were shiny and filled. She wanted to swipe her eyes with her hands, but he held them fast.

If she wanted to cry over him, _damn her_, he would embarrass her into regretting it.

"Whatever for?"

"F-for not saving you."

"Miss Granger! You could not have done anything different that would have revived me. You know nothing of healing spells. And I doubt you had enough magic to do a credible job anyway."

Her tears spilled over and wet her cheeks.

"If anyone is going to apologize, it is I... "

"Stop! Don't say that!" She slid off the chair and into his arms. One arm went around his neck and the other about his shoulder. She buried her face in his shirt and openly sobbed. "It's all of us that should be sorry. I could have done something. I-I'm so sorry for everything!"

Hermione was shuddering with wracking sobs. She released the frustration and self-doubts she'd kept within her heart for eight months.

Snape held her very tight to assure her while restraining her movements. He held her head against him and waited for her to calm. She smelled of raspberries and coconut and talcum powder. He began rubbing her back with one hand, his other moving in her hair.

Her voice was raspy and soft, "I'm sorry I didn't save you. Please, don't do it, please."

_Do what?_ Snape wondered.

He reviewed the past months in his head. Since he regained consciousness, the only thing he wanted to do was end his life. Was Miss Granger asking him to _live_?

He considered Miss Granger's misplaced guilt and her unrelenting tears. The girl was crying more than Charity Burbage had and she had begged him to save her life.

All at once he felt gratitude for the girl's grief and humility from her compassion.

Had anyone ever cared for him? His father had shown his disregard with his biting words. His mother had affection only for her husband. She overlooked her son as if he never existed.

Lily was attached to him... for a while, but it could have been out of pity.

Even the man Snape respected above anyone else, Dumbledore, never so much as regretted if Snape lived or died.

When it came time to give his life in the Shrieking Shack, Snape had done so with great relief. To be rid of this senseless, cold world which never offered him affection.

Snape had learned well that he was unworthy of any kindness.

And now this mousy girl had gone months in anguish, endangering her health over_ him_, Severus Snape.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered into his chest.

Snape was astonished at the sensation. He felt warm and hot and cold. And needy.

She fit his body in a way he'd never expect.

His hand found her chin and turned her face up to his. He touched his mouth gently to her lips. The tears in both their eyes sufficient.

Of all Snape's feats, perhaps the most brave, was allowing himself to love again.


End file.
